Fortunate Son
by arctapus
Summary: Legolas is fostered as a youngster to the court at Rivendell, much against the wishes of his parents and in keeping with the 'guidance' of Celeborn and Galadriel, two who hope to end the bickering by creating a bond. All that follows is not gold.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Fortunate Son

Author: Arctapus/Helmboy

Codes: Lord of the Rings, AU, R-Mature, Elrond, Legolas main pair and other characters including the twins and Glorfindal are secondary.

Summary: Legolas is fostered as a youngster to the court at Rivendell, much against the wishes of his parents and in keeping with the 'guidance' of Celeborn and Galadriel, two who hope to end the bickering by creating a bond. All that follows is not gold.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I merely tell tales.

Feedback: Requested and answered.

=0=Lothlorien ...

He sat on a tree root waiting for his parents to come down from the platform that marked the entrance to the home of the Lady and Lord of the Wood. They had arrived earlier, the Captain of the Guard, Haldir leading them in. As they arrived it was clear that there were others already here, their horses tied nearby and their retainers waiting patiently.

He had dismounted, eying the strange dark-haired Elves with curiosity even as he was eyed. They had noticed him from the group, his unusual beauty standing out in a crowd known for it. He had not recognized anyone and seeing the saddle markings of Elves from Imladris, he had found a place by himself, sitting on a large root at the bottom of a Mallorn tree.

He had only snatches of reasons for the trip to Lorien, this being the first time in his life he had ever accompanied his parents any place beyond the strict confines of their kingdom. He was the youngest and often times in the hectic schedule of business of state, the one left behind with his mother.

Now something had arrived in their midst and it had upset both of them terribly. His father almost didn't agree to leave, so unhappy was he with the 'request' of the Lord and Lady of the Wood. The situation had not been discussed with him but he had been asked to go, riding to Lothlorien with his parents.

They were met and taken inside the great forest, the trees stupefying to him, even as he had been raised among them. They rode to the city, soldiers tying their horses to railings for them as the great lady and lord met them, escorting them inside. He had been introduced, Lady Galadriel especially gracious and then they had left him to cool his heels in the shade and serenity of the great wood.

People had come and gone, some he knew from a glimpse here and there and some not, causing him to speculate who was 'friendly' and who was the 'enemy', his own euphemism for Rivendell folk. Horses trumpeted their impatience to him as he waited with growing anxiety for the outcome of the meeting.

All he knew was that he was the agenda.

***In the presence of the Lord and Lady of the Wood ...

They sat together, each on their own side. The King and Queen of the Green Wood stared with regal coolness at the dais where Celeborn and Galadriel sat. On the other side, equal to them, Lord Elrond, Glorfindel and Erestor sat.

Galadriel suppressed a sigh, the emotions of all involved clear to her and she turned to her husband, Celeborn and nodded. He rose and stood before them, tall and contemplative.

"Welcome to our country, good and wise people. We are most gratified that you came to our summons. It is on the business of all good that we asked you here today. For these many years it has been estranged among us, the relations between the great Green Wood and the valley of Rivendell cold between you. That is not the way of our people.

"There is much to gain from a closer and warmer alliance. Contact between our three countries should be increasing but it is not. Our people should feel free to come and go amongst us but they do not. Much that is good and valuable is not emerging between us because of old wounds and attitudes."

Elrond stole a glance toward Thranduil and noted that the King was uncomfortable under the unblinking gaze of the great Lord. He, himself, a son-in-law of the two was more used to the ethereal contact and therefore felt less harshly the impact of his words.

Celeborn turned to his wife, Galadriel smiling at him with her usual gaze of loving admiration. He smiled back, considering his words. As he did Thranduil stole a glance at Elrond. Their gazes met, a chill was passed between them and they turned back, listening as Celeborn began again.

"It was and still is the practice of fostering sons between families of great houses. For my Lady and I, having the children of Elrond for lengths of time is close to the experience of our ancestors but that is the relationship of grandparents and grandchildren. That is separate even if it is good."

He stared at both men for a second. "The Lady and I wish that you, Thranduil, foster your youngest child to the household of Lord Elrond. It would be in the interests of all for you to do this thing. It would help to heal wounds that have lingered far too long between us. I would suggest a son sent to you, Thranduil, but Elrond's children are grown."

It was silent a moment, no one speaking and then Celeborn continued. "We are asking this for the greater good of all our people. We would consider it a favor personal to us, Thranduil, if you would do this good thing. A favor to us. A personal favor."

They all sat, listening to the implications unspoken and then Elrond rose, turning to the two silent pale people on the other side of the small room.

"It would be an honor to do this and I would give to any child of Thranduil the best possible care and protection." Inside his head a banshee howled even as he acceded to the inevitability of the moment. He waited, breath held, stealing a glance at Galadriel. She winked just barely perceptibly and he struggled not to smile.

Thranduil glanced at the shocked and pale face of his wife and then rose slowly. "Does the Lord of Lothlorien mean that I must give up my youngest child at this tender moment of his fostering to the care of another? What manner of thing is this? That a father and mother must send a child of their own off to live among strangers?"

The emphasis on strangers was clear and angry even as Thranduil struggled with the manner of his speaking and Elrond struggled too not to bristle.

"Your son would be safe in my lands, as safe as a child of my own," Elrond countered, his words and manner deliberately soft and gentle.

"But he isn't your son," Thranduil said, struggling with his anger. "He is mine, my youngest boy. I am being asked to give him to you for how long? Years? All the days of his youth to be given to another?"

"It is the way of our people to foster young ones among the great houses, to build harmony and trust. You are a king of our people as are you, Elrond of Rivendell. There are no easy paths for any of us who bear this burden. Surely by now you would know this truth."

Celeborn's voice was sharp, the rebuke in it clear to both men. They hesitated, turning to the great lord and lady. As they did, Thranduil's wife rose and moved to stand before them.

"All these many years I have longed for detente. This way of anger and rage is not the way of our people. It has cost us all dearly. However, I implore you to consider the cost to my heart of the loss of my young boy. Even as he approaches the end of his younger days, he is still in many ways my child. It would grieve me uncounted to lose him for many years at this stage to another. Soon the day will come when he will become a man and have less need for his mother. I forestall the sorrow of that time by his company now."

For a moment it was silent and then Galadriel rose, her face filled with understanding and pity.

"I too know the loss of a child. My only child, my daughter is gone from me oversea and who will know how many ages will pass before we can see each other again. Your pain I understand in ways no man can know. But what we are responsible for is greater than our own needs and desires. Your son can be a bridge for our people to become whole again. For all the pain of separation, there is the joy of reunion, not just for you but for all our people. Even as I grieve for your heart, I implore you to be gracious and kind, to give your child to Lord Elrond to heal the breach between our people."

She stood before Galadriel, her grief on her face and then she composed herself, turning to her husband. "The Lord and Lady have spoken. What say you, husband?"

Thranduil stood silently, his internal emotional firestorm clear to all. It raged on his face as he looked from his wife to Celeborn to Galadriel and finally to Elrond. He stared at Elrond, the anger of centuries flashing in his eyes and then he turned to Celeborn at last.

"I would wish to take council on this," he said shortly. "It is a step that must not be considered in haste."

Celeborn nodded and the two turned, walking hand in hand out of the room. Elrond watched them go and turned to his in-laws, a frown forming on his face.

"That wasn't good," he said finally.

Galadriel chuckled, walking down to where he stood, bemused advisers all around him. "I think it was a good start, don't you, my Lord?" she asked, turning to her husband.

He shook his head, a smile forming on his lips. "If you say so, my Lady."

Elrond had to laugh in spite of himself.

***Outside in the courtyard...

Legolas scrambled down from the root and rushed to his parents, staring at their faces as they walked toward their horses.

"Mount up, Legolas. We're leaving."

He nodded, not daring to ask and joined his family and their party, riding with them from the hitching area. Through the forest, not waiting for Haldir, they rode out of Lothlorien. It would be a silent ride home, the three of them keeping their own council before the explosive arguments between his parents would begin in their home. Legolas would only wait, his fears his own as they shouted their way to a decision.

***Arrival at Imladris a month later ...

They rode through the great gate of the city, entering the courtyard that led to the house beyond. He rode beside his father, sitting as straight as he could. His eyes flickered around, even as he sat affecting indifference to the beauty that hit him like a gloved fist to the jaw, so great was the effect Rivendell had upon him.

The group dismounted while he and his father sat, waiting for the head of the household to greet them. Standing in the doorway, Elrond noted the tension in the older man. Considering he was giving over his son to the care of a man he didn't like, Elrond could hardly blame him. He stepped forward, Glorfindel and Erestor on each side and walked the short distance to where the two waited.

Standing on a balcony nearby, watching with silent interest, Elladan and Elrohir waited. They could see through the facade of relaxation he wore like a mask the tension in their father as he greeted the haughty king of the north wood. There was an exchange of conversation and an invitation to dine. Thranduil declined it and Elrond absorbed the insult without comment.

For a moment they just stared at each other, neither one giving an inch and then Thranduil turned toward his son, a flicker of emotion in his eyes. "You will do well here, Legolas. Your family is expecting it."

Legolas nodded, swallowing hard. He watched as his father directed his men to unload his son's things and then he turned back toward Elrond. "You have my son for a period of time. I have no say in this matter it would appear. I will hold you responsible for his safety and his well-being."

Elrond nodded, watching the youngster's facade crack slightly as the time came for his father to leave. He stepped back, allowing the men with Thranduil to carry the boy's luggage to the steps of the house. They put it down and walked back, remounting their horses. For a moment father and son whispered to each other and then Thranduil turned toward Elrond, a strained look on his face. He nodded and then, without a backward glance, rode back through the door with his party.

Legolas sat and watched them, swallowing his tears. Then he turned and stared at the man who would be master of his fate for the next few years. Elrond looked at him and then gestured for him to dismount. The youth did, revealing nothing of himself in his expression and followed the older man inside. They entered the house, a marvel of beauty and then Elrond turned to him, noting the appearance of his sons on the stairway.

"Welcome to Rivendell, Legolas. I am glad to have you here. My sons Elladan and Elrohir," he said, nodding to each, "will escort you to your rooms and when they have helped you settle in, then I would like you to come to my study so that we may talk together."

Legolas swallowed, his eyes flickering between father and sons and then he nodded, silent as a statue. Elrond nodded back and turned, walking away with Glorfindel and Erestor toward the center of the house. It was silent a moment and then Elladan moved forward, picking up a case. He turned and looked at the other two, standing quietly as they watched him.

"Come on. Grab something," he said, picking up another case. Elrohir did likewise and they turned, noting that Legolas hadn't moved. "Aren't you going to help here?"

Legolas, filled with conflicting emotions, shook his head. "I am a prince from a house of princes. I don't carry my own baggage."

"It seems to me that you do already," Elladan replied dryly, sliding a case toward the reluctant prince with his foot. "My grandfather is the evening star. My mother is the daughter of the Lady of the Wood, yet I obey my father's commands. I would suggest you pick up your things and follow us."

The two older boys turned and walked up the stairs, not looking back at Legolas. They walked along the corridor, snickering about the problem they now confronted. When they arrived at Legolas' room, they put his things down and turned, more than aware that he hadn't followed. Elladan sighed, shaking his head.

"He's going to be a problem."

Elrohir smiled and walked to the door. "What do you want to do about it?"

"Paddle his butt," Elladan said, moving toward the door as well. "He's probably still standing there. Do you suppose he means it? That he doesn't do things for himself?"

"I don't know. He's Thranduil's son, right? Anything is possible. It might be that he's that been catered to."

"He's come to the wrong place for that to continue," Elladan said, distaste filling his sensibilities. "Father has his hands full."

They walked out into the hallway, moving toward the stairs. Peering down, they saw the youngster standing beside his last baggage, arms folded and stubborn look set firmly into his fine features. They both paused at the top, smiling to each other.

"He's pretty, I'll hand that to him, pretty even for an Elf," Elrohir said with a smirk.

"I'd love to wipe that smug bastard look off of his face," Elladan said, sighing softly.

"Is that all?" Elrohir asked, peering out of the corner of his eye at his twin.

"No, but it'll do for now," he sighed, moving to walk down the steps.

They reached the bottom, pausing before him. Legolas stared back at them, his eyes as stubborn as the set of his chin.

"You need to cooperate. You're esquired here to do what my father bids and to learn what you need for kingship sake. That means you carry your own baggage," Elladan said patiently.

He looked at Elladan as if he had grown horns. "I am the son of a king. I do not carry my own baggage."

Elrohir snorted, drawing the disdainful stare of the younger boy. "You have as much chance of being king of your father's country than I have of being Lady of the Wood."

For a moment nothing happened and then Legolas launched himself at Elrohir, the two falling to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs and shouts of rage and surprise. Elladan watched for a moment, enjoying the fine spectacle when he heard footsteps coming from the general direction of his father's retreat. Moving hastily, he pulled the youngster off his brother, falling to one knee in his struggle to hold him.

Elrohir, maddened by the whole matter, rose up and leaped forward, falling into a tangle with both boys and when Glorfindel, Erestor and Elrond rounded the corner, it was a grand melee, Legolas swinging at everything, Elrohir hitting his brother in his zest to get at the Mirkwood prince and Elladan falling backward, his arms around the visitor's slender body.

Elrond stared a moment, shock informing his features and then with the two men at his side, he waded in, pulling the struggling blond boy out of the tangle of his sons. As he did, Elrohir rose up maddened and swung on Legolas who then ducked, the blow falling straight into Elrond's face.

For a moment it was as if time stood still and then Elrond staggered, falling backward with a thud. He sat stunned, blinking his eyes and then lay back, dazed. It was as silent as a tomb as Legolas scrambled to his feet, turning with clenched fists toward the group standing silently before him. For a moment he didn't understand and then he looked backward, staring with growing fear and loathing at the sight of his benefactor laid out on the floor. Turning, he looked at the others and swallowed.

Hard.

***Several minutes later ...

Glorfindel chuckled as he handed the cool wet cloth to his lord. Watching as Elrond gingerly applied it to his eye, he considered his words and how much teasing the dignity of the Lord of Imladris could handle at the moment. Erring on the side of caution, he sighed.

"Boys will be boys," he said.

Elrond removed the cloth and stared up at one of his oldest friends. "Speak for yourself. We were never that foolish."

"No," Glorfindel replied, sitting. "We were probably worse."

"I never struck my father," Elrond said, sighing deeply. "What has Galadriel and Celeborn gotten us into?"

"They have their reasons," Glorfindel replied. "Even if they are the only ones who know them."

Elrond rose and peered around the corner of the door discreetly. Three youngsters were sitting in three different chairs in his study, waiting for the ax to fall. He turned and walked back, sitting on the edge of his bed once more.

"I want to take a spoon to their bottoms but I doubt that would be the appropriate response to this sort of foolishness for boys that age."

"Probably," Glorfindel agreed with a smile. "I think King Thranduil would disapprove if you spanked his son."

"Thranduil ..." Elrond scowled and then winced. "I fear that we shall rue the day this little one came to our doorstep."

"You *would* have an open door policy," Glorfindel said, taking the cloth back. He peered at the dark bruise that was forming around Elrond's eye. "Your son packs a wallop."

"He does. My fault for teaching him how to fight."

"True," Glorfindel replied, sighing. "Physician, heal thyself."

Elrond chuckled and winced, rising and gathering his dignity around him. Walking to the door, he entered, three youngsters jumping up quickly as he appeared. They stood nervously, Elrohir's face a desolation.

"Well, well ..." Elrond sighed, staring at them with a stern expression of disapproval. "This is a fine way to begin a new alliance."

"I am sorry, Papa," Elrohir said, falling back on a more intimate form of salutation in his distress. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Then you meant to hurt someone else? Legolas perhaps?"

Elrohir glared at the youngster, who glared back as firmly.

"I would like to state that young Legolas is here in my household for a purpose and deserves by that status and that of his rank, respect."

A smile formed on Legolas' lips and Elrond was more than aware of it. He turned his formidable gaze toward the young prince, the smile falling from his lips like raindrops. "I also expect that a squire in my household will do their part in all things. It appears that there is baggage of yours in my hall. Since my sons carried some of it to your room, I suggest that you carry the rest. Unless of course you have some valid reason why it is undignified for a prince of the North Wood to carry baggage and it is not undignified for princes of Imladris to do the same."

Smiles flashed on Elladan and Elrohir's face until their father's gaze passed by and then returned to Legolas. His face was red but he lowered his eyes, moving to comply with Elrond's demand. When he left and was clomping up the stairs, Elladan moved forward, peering at his father's eye. Elrohir, ashamed and disgusted, held back.

"Are you not going to check the outcome of your labors?" Elrond asked, staring at his other son.

Elrohir looked at him miserably, blurting out emotionally his sorrows. "Are you never to forgive me?"

Elrond felt a smile form on his lips. "Are you never going to rise above petty bickering with a stranger to our household?"

"This is the first time!" Elrohir protested.

Elrond smiled. "Make it the last."

Elrohir sighed and nodded. "I am truly sorry, Papa."

"I know. That is why I don't find a big spoon."

Elladan smiled. "You'd have to catch us first."

Elrond arched an eyebrow, turning to the older of his sons. "And you don't think I can catch you?"

For a moment there was silence and then they laughed. "We know you can!" Elladan said, snickering.

On the staircase above them, a sad look on his face, Legolas watched. Silently, with a ragged sigh, he turned and walked back to his room alone.

**********Later that night ...

Dinner was a quiet affair, Legolas sandwiched between two visiting Elves from the Gray Havens. Ordinarily he would be dazzled at the idea of strangers at table bringing news from other places, so sheltered and isolated was his father's court but he was too homesick to care very much.

This was the longest time he had ever been away from home and it bothered him more than he had dreaded that it would. He had never been away from home, the confines of their kingdom and the company of one or both of his parents. He even missed his brothers, the older boys usually having little to do with the bright, handsome youngster that was such an afterthought to all their lives.

He had grown up close to his mother and idealizing his father, a man who was emotionally volatile but emotionally distant as well. He wanted to please his father more than he wanted to breathe sometimes and so he worked hard at the skills that his father would notice, most noteworthy his uncanny ability with a bow. He was among the finest natural archers in his entire kingdom, someone to pit the best against in tournaments.

This was something that his father admired in him and when he would compliment the boy, he would float in joy over it for days. Now his father was far away and he was here, living in the midst of the enemies of his family. His grandfather had suffered, the Noldor unworthy of his trust and he was stuck among them for a very long time.

Looking at the head of the table, sitting on his chair slightly raised above all others, he studied as best he could the comptroller of his fate. Lord Elrond of Rivendell, the Master of Imladris, the names didn't come easily to his mind. He was raised on another ethos regarding this place and these people and he felt surrounded and alone.

Elrond was tall, like all Elves were and his hair was long and dark. Dark hair was not commonly seen in his woods and so the idea of it was strange to him. Elrond had gray eyes and they seemed to pierce him when they looked at each other, dark eyes capable of drilling holes through his brain. It was almost as if the older man could read his mind and even though it was a possible thing among his kind, Legolas felt he could read every syllable, not the odd stray thought or the emotional landscape of the moment.

It made him feel naked and vulnerable and along with that, nervous. He usually wasn't nervous unless his brothers had provoked him and now he was, sweaty nervous, the kind you get before something terrible happens. Like at that moment. He reached for his glass and missed, knocking it over with his hand.

The glass tipped and red wine spilled, spreading like blood across the snow white cloth of the table. He watched it with dismay, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as the eyes of all fixed upon it. He rose, his napkin falling and he stood helplessly.

Elrond noted his dismay and made a snap decision. Reaching out for his own glass, he bumped it and it tipped, falling over. He stared at it for a moment, drawing attention away from the suffering boy and sighed.

"Papa," Elrohir exclaimed with surprise. "You spilled your glass."

It was comical, the note of extreme surprise in his voice as he witnessed an event he had never seen before and before he could speak again, Elladan kicked him under the table. Elrond rose and took his napkin, placing it on the stain. He looked at Legolas, the darkly emotional eyes of the youngster upon him and he nodded.

Legolas looked around flustered and retrieved his napkin, imitating the great lord himself. Then all rose and they turned and walked out, moving to the balcony beyond. Elrond lingered, waiting for all to pass before turning to the laggardly boy moving as well. He took him by the arm and stopped him, looking into his face with kindly eyes.

"Thank you for not letting me be the only one to be clumsy tonight," he said louder than need be, squeezing Legolas' arm gently. He stepped aside and the astonished boy passed, moving onto the balcony to listen to the singing that was wafting up from the valley below.

Elrond watched him go and stop at the railing, staring into the soft night glittering with twinkling stars. Waterfalls filled the evening with beauty, both visually and melodically and they sat or stood, listening and watching for hours.

Legolas sat on the railing, unaware of the many admiring glances he drew, puzzling over the enigma of the lord of this realm. With a sigh, he gave himself over to the music of the night, one more reason to be homesick.

=0=TBC

c2010


	2. Chapter 2

=0=Part Two, Fortunate Son ...

Elrond sat at his desk, breakfast behind him and the day stretching out like an endless winding road. The youngster had joined them, garbed in green, a suitable color for him he considered and now it was up to Elrond to give him purpose.

He had not been involved in the daily activities of a child for a long time, his three more than capable now of taking care of their own business. His sons often rode out with companions, hunting orcs. All his impassioned arguments about the futility of this went unheeded between his sons. They were avenging their mother, they said. Nothing would prevent them from getting even with the ones who had taken her from them, they said.

He sighed, the power of a mother over sons an enormous mystery to him. His own mother was a bright star, an ethereal glow set far away, so long had it been since he had seen and touched her. He could understand his boys emotions even if he disapproved of their actions. He feared for them, so determined were they to rid Middle Earth of orcs that their caution was probably not up to his own exacting standards.

Rising, he walked to the door and peered down the hallway, waiting for the youngster to appear. As he looked out, he noted the child sitting on a chair, his hands folded in his lap. Startled, he looked at the boy and noted once again his great beauty.

"Legolas ... why are you sitting out here?"

He rose and stared at the floor. "I am awaiting your call, my Lord."

"You were asked to come. You do not need my leave to enter this room," Elrond said gently.

Legolas shrugged. "It is the order of my father that I follow. I do not know what your household demands."

Elrond felt a warmth flow through him as he stared at the unhappy youngster. "Then it is my duty to instruct you. Come inside." The boy turned and walked in, staring around the book-lined room with its tables and chairs, beckoning their comfort. It was a man's room, filled with things that interested its master and he was filled with curiosity in spite of himself. He turned and waited for Elrond to give him leave to sit.

Elrond sighed internally, gesturing for the boy to sit and he did, waiting tensely for instructions. Elrond sat across from him, studying the fine features of the youngster. He was a very young person, at an age among Elves that was torturous to determine without asking. At some point in time wisdom accumulates and one can sense age. But at the age of this one, it was as if one were staring at a bud on a limb, rather than a fully formed leaf.

"Tell me about yourself, son of Thranduil," he asked, his sonorous voice soft and gentle.

The boy looked up, deeply blue eyes meeting Elrond's and his face was featured in surprise.

"Myself, my Lord?"

"Yes," Elrond said smiling as he settled back in the couch. "I would be interested in knowing about you, what you like, what you aren't fond of, that sort of thing. I know nothing at all about you but that you are the apple of your mother's eye."

For a moment he looked close to tears and then he looked down at his hands, gathering himself. "My mother is wonderful," he whispered.

"Mothers are, Legolas," Elrond replied gently.

"My mother is a good rider," Legolas said, raising his eyes once more. "She can ride anything. And she's good with a bow."

"She's a remarkable woman, so I am told. Her beauty surpasses what I have heard."

Legolas smiled slightly. "They say that I take after her."

"I can see it," Elrond said, nodding. The boy was most like her, the hard edge of his father nowhere to be found on his fair face. Elrond sighed, drawn to the perfection of his features, the habit of turning toward beautiful things honed over a lifetime.

"My father is a good man," Legolas said, a defensive tone in his voice.

"It has always grieved me that there has been a divide between us. It is not what I wished," Elrond said, watching as the boy struggled to contain all he wanted to say. Finally, he sighed, staring at his hands again.

"I like to ride. I am very good with a bow and I like to swim."

"Those are all favored here in Imladris. If you wish companions for such things, it can be arranged. I admire proficiency with arms. I have taught my sons and daughter to be able with such things. I would be glad to see your prowess with bow and arrow. I have belief that it is great."

A flicker of a smile formed on the perfect lips and was gone as quickly. The golden head merely nodded. "It would be my pleasure, my Lord."

Elrond smiled. "What do you like to read?"

Legolas looked up, staring around the room. "I like all manner of books. I especially like histories, the events of the past of our people."

"You are given leave to read any book in my house. They are mostly here and the great library beyond, rows and rows, many ancient and written by those who participated in the events noted therein."

"That would be wonderful," Legolas replied, catching his enthusiasm. He blinked and nodded. "Thank you."

"I am pleased that books matter to you, young Legolas. Many young men are occupied by things other than learning. Ladies become important all too quickly to many."

Legolas leaned back, wrinkling his nose. "Fair ladies are fine enough but I am not interested in them."

"That time will come in due course," Elrond said, amused by the youngster's firmness.

"Perhaps, but I think not," Legolas said, staring at the desk nearby, its contents interesting to him.

"Tell me of your life at home," Elrond asked, enjoying the company of the boy before him. He was surpassingly fair and as such an object worthy of study, for all Elves quested for beauty, the contemplation of which was restful and fulfilling.

He shrugged, a pang of homesickness rising through him. "I would study with my tutor and work with my fencing instructor. I would ride through the forest with my friends and family. I love the green wood. I love hunting through it, finding new things ... I love the forests around my home."

"What did you think of Lothlorien?" Elrond asked, studying the moods that flashed over the boy's face like storm clouds over a summer sky.

"They were wonderful!" he said, admiration for the great trees there overcoming his reserve. "I loved them. You could almost hear their voices."

"Have you ever heard their voices, Legolas?" Elrond asked.

Legolas sat a moment and then sighed sadly. "No, my Lord. I would give anything to hear them."

"Perhaps that won't be such an impossible desire," Elrond said, smiling. "Anything is possible in the world."

Legolas looked at him, the natural inclination for him to hate the man before him faltering under the assault of his charm and interest. The idea of a man of such stature being interested in him was a stunning revelation and he wondered what would prompt such an thing.

"You are a man of great authority and power. Surely you have things that must beckon you."

Elrond smiled, shrugging. "Things can wait. You have my full attention."

The youngster stared at Elrond, suddenly feeling vulnerable. He sat back, withdrawing himself as best he could.

"Do you walk?"

Legolas blinked. "Walk, my Lord?"

"Do you hike trails? Mountains?" Elrond asked.

"I love to hike," he answered, watching as the tall figure rose, turning and walking to his desk.

Elrond unclasped his outer robe and shrugged it off, draping it over his desk. He turned, noting the expectation on the youngster's face. "Let's go for a walk."

Legolas rose, moving toward the door with his benefactor. Together, they walked outside and down the staircase to the front door. Elrond nodded to people, smiling and then stepped outside into the bright sunshine of morning. Legolas followed, moving side-by-side with the lord of all that he surveyed. They walked together and out of the gate, heading for the countryside of the great valley of the Bruinen.

Standing on a balcony, staring at them as they went, Elladan and Elrohir watched with curiosity.

***Inside the house ...

Glorfindel walked toward the back door, heading for the stable and the horses that he was supervising in their training. As he passed the corridor leading to the library, he heard voices bantering. Pausing, he crept closer and listened, amusement filling him. Elladan and Elrohir was talking together and the subject was the chief topic among all lately, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood.

"I think they look well together," Elrohir was saying, his voice taunting and teasing as he so obviously needled his brother.

Elladan turned toward Elrohir, a disgusted frown on his face. "That boy is younger than you and I. I would be careful how much you spread this new theory of yours around. People will be much scandalized over such things as you just expressed."

"Why? Because our father is smitten? Or because the object of his lust is a fair young thing?"

Elladan stopped and turned, fixing his twin with a jaundiced eye. "You have no class. For a man with the sire that you have, you are a classless thing."

They heard a snort and turned to see Glorfindel laugh, his arms folded in front of him. They smirked to each other.

"The walls have ears," Elladan said, making his point. Elrohir moved past him, pausing by the older man.

"Tell me, my Lord, what say you to my thoughts? Is my father infatuated or no?"

Glorfindel stared at them, at the intensity of their gaze and turned. "Uh, no. Do not ask me such things about one so dear to me."

He turned and walked toward the backdoor, clearing the house as the two caught up to him, one on each side. Elladan sighed as he watched his brother's mirth.

"You think so too!" Elrohir said, laughing.

They entered the stables, the three moving to a doorway that led to a paddock. Three wondrous horses stood there, sunning themselves in the warm morning air. They all paused, caught by their beauty and then Elrohir began again.

"Tell me I am not right," he said, snickering at Elladan's discomfort. "Tell me."

Glorfindel paused, turning a wry expression on the persistent youngster. "You try the patience of a saintly person ... such as myself."

Elrohir snorted and glanced at Elladan, himself enraptured by the horses still. "You tell me by not telling me, the truth of my question. I thank you."

Glorfindel glanced at him, slipping inside the paddock proper. "You flatter yourself, my friend, with the depth of your insight. I am as still water, unknown and unknowable."

Even Elladan snorted at that, smiling at Glorfindel as he chuckled to himself. He walked to the horses, touching them with his hands. Gentling them with softly whispered words, the elf-horses listened, their ears flicked forward. Soft nickers met him as he spent time with them in their enclosure. Elladan and Elrohir watched, admiring once again the skill of their elder.

"What do you think, Elladan? Do you think Father is enamored? I don't get premonitions often but this feels so."

Elladan turned his dark gaze on his brother, the mirror of their faces reflecting against each other. "I don't know. I hope not. Father doesn't need any more suffering. Besides, it would bring dishonor to involve himself with an esquired boy."

"So," Elrohir countered, sighing. "When was the last time you saw him do something for himself?"

They both thought a moment and then Elladan sighed. "You do realize, brother, that he has a duty to train this boy and make him fit for kingship. That might be the only reason he stares at him so, the burden of his many and varied responsibilities."

Elrohir turned his face toward his brother, smiling in spite of himself. "Yes, and I will become the next Lady of the Wood."

Elladan didn't miss a beat. "I have always known of that. It came to me years ago in a dream-"

He never got farther in his statement.

***On the trail...

They walked along, following a path many had taken to the higher lands that surrounded the valley. Snow capped mountains stared down at them, their dazzling white summits sparkling in the bright light of mid morning.

Elrond pointed out the flowers that grew in shadow and light, the names of small rivulets of fast flowing water and the points of interest that spread out in all directions around them. It was wondrously beautiful and Legolas became lost in the sites and smells around him, the scent of pines running sap adding a fragrance that was indescribable to their passage.

They walked on, snatches of the valley below coming into view when trees allowed and they could see the spires of Rivendell below. They moved to a rocky outcrop and Elrond sat on a large granite boulder, watching the youngster as he looked all around.

"It's beautiful."

Elrond smiled. "It was so when we first came here. I love this valley."

"Your city is beautiful in a way I have never seen a place be." Legolas turned and stared at him. "You have created a wonderful place."

Elrond smiled. "It is what I remember in some ways from my childhood in older times and in some ways it is not. I like to think that the best of the past and present intermingle here."

"My father's house is different. We have a mountain fastness."

"I have seen it. It is a much airier place than one would think carved from stone the way it is."

Legolas nodded, moving to sit on the boulder. He drew up his legs, crossing them gracefully. He stared into the valley below. "The river twists and turns like a snake. It seems so small. I have never lived in a place with so many waterfalls."

"The water is restful. My house is restful."

"I noted that. I slept well," Legolas said, turning his blue eyes on the figure next to him."

"That's good," Elrond said, smiling.

Legolas paused and rose, walking to the edge of the cliff side. He turned and looked at Elrond. "Last night ... when your glass tipped, did it do so of its own accord or was it helped thus?"

Elrond smiled slightly, watching as the boy stared at his ground, nervous to broach a subject that brought such embarrassment. "I cannot say."

Legolas smiled slightly, looking at him directly. "It was fortuitous."

Elrond smiled. "Sometimes things happen that way."

He stared at the ground and then stepped forward, his expression filled with questions. Finally, after a deep breath, he sat down again. "You are not what I expected."

Elrond nodded, waiting. "No?"

"No," Legolas replied, shaking his head. "I was afraid to come here. I was afraid to be in your house, to be under your control. I ..."

"You have been told things," Elrond prompted.

"Yes," Legolas whispered, blushing brightly. He rubbed his cheek with an elegant hand. "I'm sorry."

Elrond shrugged. "You are a young man away from home. You have to live in the house of someone your father has grudges against. What are you supposed to feel?"

Legolas looked at him. "I don't feel as terrible today as I did yesterday."

Elrond laughed and nodded. "You might feel terrible tomorrow. Homesickness is nothing to underestimate. But I'm glad that you came. I hope you will enjoy the time you are here."

Legolas framed a slight smile on his face, sighing as he glanced toward the hills beyond. "It is beautiful and the Lady and Lord of the Lorien Wood wish this to be. I have to find a way to be happy here."

Elrond nodded. "You will."

Legolas stared at the river below, winding along its ageless track. The sun was warm and the company surprisingly comfortable. Elrond sat a moment, studying his profile, then he rose. Legolas rose with him, waiting expectantly. "I know a place with good berries. They stain the fingers but they're worth the effort."

Legolas smiled. Elrond felt the sunshine permeate him as the two turned and walked off the track into the grassy meadow beyond. He had not been here in a long time, the idea of just going someplace without purpose something he had not considered in ages.

Things waited for him, things that needed doing but he decided as they crossed a running streamlet that they would wait. Right now there were berries to pick and a boy to make welcome. Nothing else had higher priority in his mind.

=0=TBC

c2010


	3. Chapter 3

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Three...

***Later that afternoon ...

"You have purple fingers."

Elrond looked up from his book, meeting the smiling eyes of Glorfindel. He stood before him, a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hand. Elrond smirked and nodded.

"A hazard to be borne of berry pickers everywhere."

Glorfindel set the glasses on the table and uncorked the bottle, filling the tall goblets with a clear liquid. He handed one to Elrond and raised his in salute, sitting comfortably in the arm chair across from him. Elrond returned the salute and savored a sip, sighing with pleasure.

"The good stuff," he mentioned, casting a bemused eye to his friend.

"Only use good stuff to celebrate."

"Celebrate what, may I ask?" Elrond asked, peering over the rim of his glass.

"The lessening of tension caused by the son of Thranduil." Glorfindel dragged out the last syllable of the Mirkwood Lord's name, grinning at the sound of it. "That young man has always annoyed me. He's rather like his father was."

"I'm not sure anyone was like Oropher. He is rather one in a million I would estimate."

"Was," Glorfindel reminded him. "As in past tense."

Elrond sighed. "That's true. It didn't have to be that way."

"It had to," Glorfindel countered. "After all, he was a grown man and in full control of his faculties. Or so we believed."

"We were all mad in those days." Elrond sighed, visions of lost friends filling his mind. "I miss a lot of people lost in battles I can barely remember."

"As do I," Glorfindel agreed. "This boy ... what do you make of him?"

"He's lonely," Elrond said. "He's lonely for attention from someone he can admire. His father doesn't appear to know what a jewel he has in this child."

"How old do you suppose this boy is?" Glorfindel mused, the conversation with Elrohir flashing into memory.

"It is hard to say. I believe that he is near or at legal age for separation from family but he has been raised rather as a hot house flower. He has many attributes of a grown man and many of a vulnerable boy."

"Nice combination, especially the vulnerable part," Glorfindel tested, staring over the rim of his glass, his feet propped up on a foot stool.

Elrond shot him a jaundiced eye. "What do you suppose that means? In your mind's eye?"

Glorfindel smirked, sighing dramatically. "What does it mean? Oh ... a number of things."

"Such as?" Elrond asked, staring at the fading dye of fruit juice on his fingers.

"It might mean that he's amenable to the attentions of another, perhaps a man of the world, a man who might find in his company good pleasure."

Elrond glanced at his friend with a frown of disgust. "You have an active imagination. My role is clearly defined. I am to foster this child and help him achieve that which his father desires, to become a figure of responsibility and dependability, well educated and skilled in the kingly arts."

"That is so," Glorfindel responded. "He's also a lonely boy, someone who might find the attentions of an older man compatible to his sense of unhappiness."

"He is unhappy in your estimation?" Elrond asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Not so much this morning as last night and yesterday. He is actually cooperating with his chores as we speak. That is a great improvement over times before. By the way, how is your black eye?"

Elrond snorted, grinning in spite of himself. "You are very glib today. What brings this rather unwelcome side of your otherwise unremarkable personality to the fore?"

Glorfindel chuckled. "You have a piercing tongue, my lord." He smirked. "Perhaps the truth of what I say makes me bold."

Elrond sighed and put his feet on the footstool, the warmth of the fire agreeable. "He is very beautiful. I cannot imagine having a son such as this one and not being more a father to his heart. Thranduil is a cold one."

Glorfindel nodded and was about to speak when Erestor entered the room. He was wet from the neck down and tracking puddles behind him. The expression of outrage on his face was priceless.

"My, Erestor, you appear to be soaking wet. How did this happen?" Glorfindel asked, grinning broadly.

Erestor ignored him, moving closer, his fists clenched in rage. "Mind your tongue," he said, with a growl. "My lord, you *must* talk to that boy!"

Elrond set his glass down and rose, suppressing a chuckle as he stared at his seneschal. "What happened to you, Erestor?"

He took a deep breath, brushing his dark hair back. "We were washing horses, a simple task, and that boy was laggardly. I asked him to bring a pail of water to wash soap off a stallion. He did and when he pitched it the water fell upon me."

For a moment there was no sound and then Elrond sighed deeply, quashing the urge to laugh mightily. Swallowing hard, he nodded. "Where is he now?"

"He is up a tree."

Glorfindel choked off a strangled laugh, drawing the poisoned glance of Erestor. Elrond drew himself up and nodded.

"I will deal with this myself."

He turned and left, Glorfindel rising. "Come. Let's watch. This could be interesting."

Erestor turned and followed Glorfindel, rounding the corner as Elrond's back disappeared down the stairs. They followed him, moving up a side staircase to a balcony over the kitchen. Moving through the household crew, they stepped out and watched, discretely shaded by a tree.

Elrond walked into the courtyard, looking in the tall trees for his missing boy. Horses were tied to hitching posts, their baths interrupted. Nearby, brushing a horse and pretending not to notice him, Elrohir and Elladan worked.

Elrond noted them, their intense but distracted eyes and made a mental note to interrogate them later. Walking past a stallion, patting its flank and searching, he spotted a sad figure sitting in the broad branches of a tall tree.

Pausing underneath, he called up softly. "Legolas, come down please."

The boy didn't move, turning his face away as he sat miserably in the tall cool branches. Elrond stared at him, considering his options and then he did the only thing that he felt he could under the circumstances. He shucked his robe and gripped a branch, climbing up the tree until he was sitting on a branch opposite of Legolas.

The youngster stared at him astonished, intensely surprised to see him. Elrond smiled, more than a little surprised at himself.

"Did you think I've never climbed a tree before?" he asked gently.

Legolas looked at him, tears brimming in his eyes. "I ... "

Elrond leaned back against the trunk, shaking his head. "It appears, son of Thranduil, that things are not working well for you today. Come down from here and let us settle our problem. Even though this is a good place from all indications," he said, looking around, "your problem is still down there waiting for you."

"I didn't mean to."

"Mean to douse him or ..."

Legolas looked at him for a minute and shook his head, suddenly unable to talk to his benefactor.

"You should feel free to talk to me," Elrond said with a sigh. "I am not going to bite."

Legolas sat a moment and then he straightened. "I am the son of a king. Washing horses is not what a king's son does."

"Ah," Elrond said. "It appears that your father's ideals of kingship and mine are at odds." It was silent a moment. "A king is someone who must bear a great burden, they must give up much to be all for their people. A king is not much good without humility, Legolas. A king must never show their people that what they do themselves is beneath them. All work is honorable."

"But washing horses," Legolas said. "Servitude is not what my father says a king must do."

"What is a king but a servant?" Elrond countered gently. "What is the greatest goal of a king's life than to serve his people well? A king must never be afraid to roll up their sleeves, to show by example that what his people does is important. Not all history is forged by the greatest in stature. Even the smallest people can make change. All that you learn, even in menial tasks prepares you to be the servant of your people."

"You would wash horses?" Legolas asked, surprised.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" Elrond asked.

Their gazes met and held, the youngster thinking over Elrond's words. He sighed. "This is a strange place and you are strange to me, my Lord. I don't know what to think sometimes."

"I know," Elrond said, looking down at the ground. "Going to a high vantage point can help the thought processes a great deal." He smiled. "I think you need to come down, apologize and finish your job. A king without humility is a worthless thing."

Legolas sighed, closing his eyes in misery. Then he nodded and following Elrond, climbed down from the tree. Glorfindel and Erestor watched, exchanging glances and turned, hurrying downstairs and out into the back courtyard. Legolas and Elrond walked toward them, Elrond slipping on his robe once more. They paused, Legolas standing before Erestor, pale and miserable.

"I am sorry, my Lord, for my carelessness. I am sorry for the shame I have brought upon myself."

Erestor looked at Elrond and then the boy, his features relaxing into a slight smile. "Your apology is accepted."

Legolas sighed and looked at Elrond, greatly relieved.

"You must continue your tasks," Elrond said gently. "Your kingdom is depending upon you to be the man you must be some day."

Legolas nodded and turned, walking back to the horses. Elrond watched and turned to the two men. "I assume you watched?"

"I wasn't aware you could still climb a tree," Glorfindel said, chuckling.

Elrond straightened, donning his dignity along with his robe. "You have forgotten much, my dear Glorfindel. I do recall that you could never best me at the sport."

Elrond moved on, walking into the house. Glorfindel smiled, shaking his head. "He was very fast as I recall, especially when someone was after him for being naughty."

"I would have loved to see that," Erestor said with a sigh, watching the young prince as he washed the stallion. He looked down at his own clothes, a frown forming on his lips. "Will you stay here until I change?"

Glorfindel nodded, smiling. "Wild horses couldn't drive me away."

Erestor shot him a poisoned look and walked into the house. Glorfindel walked to where Elladan and Elrohir pretended to work and leaned against the fence. The boys moved closer, stealing glances at the industrious youngster beyond them.

"I have never seen Father climb a tree before," Elrohir said, awe in his voice.

Glorfindel chuckled. "That is probably not the only first you shall see before this one leaves us to go home."

Elladan nodded. "I will not dispute that with you. Nothing will surprise me with this one."

***Later on in the afternoon ...

He stood at the counter, kneading dough. Erestor, changed and standing beside him, watched with a critical eye. They had finished the horses and cleaned the barn, soaping and caring for harness and saddles. Once in the kitchen washroom, they had cleaned their hands and walking through the kitchen proper, Erestor noticed a big bowl of bread dough about ready to be kneaded.

"That looks ready. Have you ever made bread?"

Legolas shook his head, completely unaware of how things were made since that part of his education was sorely neglected in his own household. Erestor smiled slightly and turned, tossing a handful of flour out onto the stone table the bowl sat on. Legolas watched him as he punched the big round mound of white dough in the middle. It hissed and he grinned.

"You do it. It's good for the soul."

Legolas moved closer and punched the dough, grinning as it flattened strangely under his touch. Erestor dumped the bowl out and tore the dough into two large pieces. Taking more flour, he shoved a big piece toward Legolas.

"Watch me and do what I do."

With skilled hands, he began to knead the dough, adding small amounts of flour as he worked. Legolas copied him, over and over turning the dough as he worked out the gas that had made it bulge in the bowl.

"It's harder than it looks," he said, grinning at Erestor.

"All the good things are, my friend," Erestor said, smiling.

They worked together side by side and as they prepared the bread, Erestor taught the youngster how to braid it. They worked on the loaves and then put it to one side, Erestor checking the oven.

"I will let the cook know about this bread and when its done we shall have it for dinner."

Legolas nodded, grinning at his accomplishment. Sitting on the top of the braided loaf was a leaf that he had fashioned, placing it just so. He looked at his hands, the grime of flour thick on his fingers. Erestor smiled.

"There is nothing wrong with labor. It's what makes a man strong. If things come too easily, what is there to look forward to?"

Legolas considered his words and followed him to the sink. They washed themselves and then Erestor looked at the tall youngster beside him.

"I think it's time to explore the pool in the glade nearby."

"The pool?" Legolas asked, walking out the door with the older man.

"Yes," Erestor said with a smile. "It's the finest swimming hole on the river."

Legolas smiled broadly and accompanied his master down the walkway while on a balcony nearby, Elrond watched. He paused in his work, stepping out to watch a song bird on a nearby branch. The step of the duo was lighter and he could see that they were heading down to the pool nearby that was a swimming hole for the locals. He sighed, wishing the freedom to join them but his dignity had taken enough hits lately. Legolas hurried along behind Erestor, their voices a faint echo in the warm spring air. He was happy it appeared, a welcomed relief over the sorrows of morning and he wondered about the boy, at his changeable heart.

With a lighter step of his own, he turned and walked back to his study to work.

=0=TBC

c2010


	4. Chapter 4

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Four...

***At dinner that night ...

They ate together, the mood lighter and when the bread was served it was much remarked upon. Legolas sat quietly, secretly enormously pleased and when dinner was over, the Lord of the Manor asked him to walk with him. Elladan and Elrohir watched them go, wine glasses in hand. They rose and walked to the balcony, noting the full moon rising over the mountain peaks beyond.

Their father and the boy walked down the winding steps in the direction of the tidal pool. Sighing slightly, Elrohir shook his head. "I don't know. I think Father likes that young one beyond his duties as a fostering lord."

"He feels responsible for him," Elladan explained patiently. "He feels the burden of his responsibility. There is a lot of difference in the two."

"There is a way to test your notion, Elladan," Elrohir said, a twinkle entering his eye.

"Why am I afraid to listen to you further? What form of devilry have you in mind?" he asked, his eyes narrowing warily as he gazed at his younger brother.

Elrohir shrugged, looking away, noting that the two had disappeared into the shadows. "If you feel that way, I shan't tell you."

Elladan sighed, shaking his head. "Now I suppose that I'm supposed to beg you to tell me thus."

Elrohir looked at him with a hurt expression. "You wound me, brother."

"I will wound you if you trifle with me. I am short of patience with this topic."

Elrohir snorted. "Consider ... *if* Father cares for this boy more than just a man would love his squire, then it can be tested. If one of us pursued this youngster ... if one of us *wooed* him, then it would tell on Father's face. It would be proof certain that he did or didn't have feelings of love for this boy."

Elladan sighed deeply. "You really are a demon spawn. I do know for certain that all the devilry possible between two matched souls was given to you."

"Tell me you would find it hard duty," Elrohir needled. "He is very pretty. You said so yourself."

"You would trifle with a person's heart to prove a point?" Elladan said, frowning at his twin.

"It wouldn't be trifling. It would be ..."

"Trifling."

They were silent a moment and then Elladan sighed again. "I suppose you wish me to woo him just to prove or disprove your point."

"He won't accept my court. I tried to punch his nose. From you, perhaps."

"If he can tell us apart," Elladan groused. He turned and set his glass on the balcony, considering Elrohir's words. "What if Father cares for him in his own fashion? He is no longer ..." Elladan paused. "Mother has been gone a long time. What if he's lonely?"

Elrohir considered his brother's pained expression. "We already know he's lonely. I want to know if he's preparing to harm himself, entering an emotional state of longing for the son of his worst enemy. You know and I do that this can only end for naught."

Elladan nodded, turning and staring into the darkness. "Wooing would be hard, this one is so tough. But wooing indeed if it proves to us what is true. And if it is? If Father is infatuated with him? What then for you, Elrohir?"

"I don't know," he answered quietly, turning and staring into the darkness as well. "I haven't figured that part out yet."

***At riverside...

They stood together, staring at the moon overhead. It was a large spring moon, not quite full and its light made all things around them soft with a silver glow. Elrond stared at the stars, looking for the one that had special meaning for his family and when he did, he chanced a gaze at Legolas.

The youngster was about his height, slim in a deceptive sort of way youths sometimes have, the figure of health and athleticism. He was intoxicatingly beautiful, his profile perfection and Elrond turned away, finding lesser things to focus his mind upon.

It bothered him, this fixation on his outward charms because the boy was troubled, unschooled in the ways of the world and someone he had to take care with beyond the fact that he was the son of his worst enemy. He was lonely and looking for someone to look up to and if he wasn't careful things could become difficult.

The water rushed by, swirling in the dark pool before them.

"I am told that you swam here today."

Legolas smiled. "I did. The water is very cold. It was refreshing after working in the stables."

"The bread was very good. I liked your decoration."

He grinned, flushing slightly in spite of himself. "I had never done that before."

"Work can be rewarding," Elrond replied, grinning slightly.

"So Erestor tells me." He considered the stone next to his boot and turned, gazing at the silent figure before him. "You are a different lord to me, something I have never seen before."

Elrond considered the boy's forthright gaze. "In what way?"

"You are informal, but terrible in your majesty. I think that Lord Celeborn and you are much alike but I do not see him climbing a tree."

Elrond snorted and chuckled. "Nor do I, though I will not hand it past him that he can, and do it well."

Legolas smiled. "You are easy to talk to. I didn't expect that."

Elrond nodded, watching the expressions pass over the boy's handsome face. "I am the father of sons."

Legolas' expression fell a bit. "Your sons do not like me."

"They don't know you well yet. Give them time and they will love you."

Legolas looked at him, his expression becoming shy. "I don't know."

"You have never been away from home before, have you." Elrond stated it rather than asked, noting the confirmation on the youngster's face.

"No. Not far. Going to Lothlorien was an adventure for me. I want them," he said, turning and facing the older man. "I want adventures, lots of them, and I want to see things, big trees and other shores."

Elrond smiled. "Those are worthy goals."

He shrugged, sighing. "My father wants me near to home."

"Do you tell him your dreams?" Elrond asked.

Legolas tucked his braid behind an ear, a thing that struck Elrond as enchanting and he watched the youngster as he bent down and picked up a rock. He skipped it out, considering Elrond's question.

"No." He sighed, glancing at Elrond slightly. "My father is a busy man. I don't always have his ear."

Elrond nodded, secretly hating Thranduil. "Men with responsibilities sometimes forget that they extend to their children."

"Did you ever forget yours?" Legolas asked, his eyes staring at Elrond with intensity.

"No," Elrond said, shaking his head. "I am their parent, their sole parent. I have a responsibility to them that transcends most things. I hold them dear."

Legolas stared at him and then looked away, staring at the moon. "The moon here is very big. I know it is the same moon that shines over my home in the great wood but it seems different in the sky now. I never considered that my father is looking at this moon in another place while I am here."

Elrond listened to the wistfulness of Legolas' words and felt emotion rising. "The world is big. The moon looks down on all of us equally."

"That is so," Legolas said, turning and looking at him. "I could never say so to my father. I find that strange. Things that I say to you, no matter how disjointed they may seem, I can say them."

"That's good," Elrond said. "I hope you feel that this is so tomorrow and the next day."

"Tomorrow I have to help Erestor count things."

Elrond snorted and chuckled. "Ah, the life of a seneschal is not an exciting one but without him my household would grind to a halt."

Legolas smiled in spite of himself. "It would seem so." He looked at Elrond, the light of the moon haloing around him. "When do I do things that are more exciting? A squire is supposed to support their lord in fields of combat and other daunting things. I've washed horses and made bread."

"That is what a squire does between wars," Elrond said laughing. "I'm sorry to tell you that but a squire's life is filled with quiet futility."

Legolas smiled, a beautiful thing. "I was afraid you would say that."

Elrond laughed and then turned, moving along the path. For the next two hours they would walk along the river and talk. By the time they got back, it would be time to turn in before the start of another new day.

***Far away ...

She stood at the window, staring at the moon in the sky. She had said her prayers, praying to Elbereth to keep her son well until he came back to her. It was empty, her home, and she missed him with an intensity that tore at her heart. He was her last child, the one unexpected and it was terrible to her not to have him home.

He had never been away from her more than the length of a day or two and then always in the company of their own people. She missed talking to him, the long conversations they would have together and she missed his beautiful smile.

Thranduil had retired, falling into bed after a hard day. She would follow soon but not before she stared at the moon and considered that its lovely light shown down on her boy. She prayed silently that he was happy and well and that he would soon return to her once again.

/... sleep well, my green leaf ... sleep well .../

***The next day ...

He worked in the storage rooms, counting things as he was assigned and for a long time he didn't know that anyone was watching. When he turned, glancing up for a second, he saw one of *them* standing in the doorway. He paused, feeling a fleeting sense of foolishness with his task at hand and then he composed himself.

"Hello."

Legolas blinked. "Hello."

"Need help?" Elladan asked, moving closer.

"No, I am fine," Legolas replied, turning and going back to his task. He counted a number of related items and wrote the figure onto the ledger sheet he bore.

"I hate taking inventory. I think it was the worst part of growing up, doing things like this."

Legolas paused and looked at him, momentarily confused. "You did this too?"

Elladan nodded, sighing. "More than you will know."

Legolas paused, staring at the sheet and then the amiable Elf sitting before him. He sighed and then returned to his job, writing and counting once more.

"Why don't you put that down and we can go riding? I'll show you some really nice trails in the high up country."

Legolas turned, wavering. "I have to do this."

"Elrohir will do it for you."

Legolas stared at him, his eyes narrowing. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he owes me a favor or two."

Legolas considered it, the idea of riding and the idea of inventory and then he sighed. "I cannot let Lord Elrond down. I have responsibilities."

For a moment Elladan wavered and then he tried again. "It will get done. Just not by you."

Legolas stood a moment and then he sighed, nodding. "All right," he said reluctantly.

"Wait here," Elladan said, leaving for a moment. He returned with Elrohir in tow. "Do this and we're even."

Elrohir sighed and took the ledger from Legolas, moving past him to the shelves beyond. He turned and watched as Legolas and Elladan moved to the door and slipped out, racing to the horses waiting in the woods nearby. They mounted up and rode off, leaving the house behind.

***Several hours later ...

Elrohir sat on the chair, twitching through his second hour of waiting. It had not taken long to finish the inventory and when he had, he had turned to face the grim and formidable frown of Erestor.

A short interrogation had followed along with a trip to his father's study where the gist of the story, if not all the motivations and details had been wrenched from him. Elrond was angry and he told his son that since he had conspired to corrupt the training of his squire, he would wait until he returned to learn of his fate. Elrohir had nodded, sighing internally and walked to the study ante room to wait, praying that Legolas and Elladan didn't decide to camp out.

Elrond sat in the next room, considering the situation and decided that there was more than met the eye. For his sons to do this big of a turnaround, it could mean little good. He would keep Elrohir in his waiting room for as long as it took for the other two boys to return. He sighed and considered the peace of his house before Celeborn and Galadriel had stepped in. Would it ever return, he considered grimly as the minutes slowly ticked by.

***High on a promontory point in the hills ...

They sat on a rock, looking out over the world and the view was spectacular of mountains, rivers and fields filled with flowers. They had ridden miles, covering a lot of terrain and when they sat to rest the horses, it was comfortable between them.

Elladan noted Legolas' youth, his exuberance and his quiet personality. He liked him, he thought, even if he was Thranduil's son and considered his motives for having him along. He felt terrible, his clearly defined conscience finding him with a barb and he considered riding back and boxing his brother's ears.

"What is it like being a twin?" Legolas asked.

Elladan shrugged. "Crowded sometimes."

Legolas laughed, a sound Elladan liked and then he bent down to pick a flower. Elladan watched him, his grace and his dignity and it hit him that of course his father would be drawn toward him. He could feel it himself.

"Who do you love, Legolas?" he asked, almost without thought.

Legolas looked at him, considering the surprising question. "I don't have a love. Is that what you mean?"

Elladan nodded. "Doesn't someone in your kingdom miss you, some lover who pines for your return?"

Legolas shrugged. "There were some, a boy here and there but no one special."

Elladan turned and looked at the field of yellow flowers that stretched out behind them. Yellow, the color of Legolas' hair. Elladan quashed the thought and rose, turning toward his horse. "I think we better head back. It will be dark soon and we'll be missed."

Legolas rose and walked to his horse, mounting up with confused thoughts. What did he mean, he considered? "Why did you ask me whether I had a lover?"

Elladan mounted his horse and turned him back toward Rivendell. "I just wanted to know."

He moved past Legolas, the younger boy staring at him with confusion. Elladan was handsome and not like the other one, his twin. What he meant by his question Legolas didn't know. He just knew it had unsettled him. He followed Elladan down the trail toward home.

=0=TBC


	5. Chapter 5

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Five

He stared out of the window, his hands resting on the ledge. The ride home had been quiet and when they reached the stable, Glorfindel was waiting, a stern expression on his face. They dismounted and let the horses into the paddock, following the elder Elf into the house and up the staircase to the study where Lord Elrond was waiting for them.

Legolas felt a sinking feeling akin to dying as he followed the two, Elladan's face grim as they entered the room. Elrohir was sitting in a chair, slumped and resigned and on one side of Elrond, Erestor sat, his disapproval clear. The two boys stood before Elrond, Glorfindel taking his seat on the other side of the Lord and Master of Imladris.

He stared at them both and at the shame on his son's face, something Elladan never could hide when he knew he was in trouble of his own choosing. The young man had a very well developed conscience and the good grace to admit when he was wrong. His brother was a little tougher on both accounts but both of them were good and decent people. Of Elladan's state, he was very clear.

The Prince of Mirkwood was an open book. His shame and painful remorse were there on his face for all to see and for a moment Elrond could feel his will weaken. Legolas was suffering from letting him down, of this he was sure. However, he had responsibilities and the duties of a lord to a misbehaving squire were well known to him.

"I am well aware of the proclivity of young men to 'cut corners' on their duties. I was once a young man myself. However, it does not excuse the error of your judgment. Or shall I say, misjudgment?"

The room was a tomb and Elrohir rose, moving to stand on the other side of Legolas. He cleared his throat painfully.

"Legolas had no part in the planning of this uh, this action, Father. It falls directly upon Elladan and myself. In fact, I bear the biggest burden of fault."

Elrond stared at his son, appreciating the uncharacteristic acceptance of guilt for a misdemeanor. It wasn't his usual pattern of behavior. Perhaps having Legolas around the house would have unforeseen beneficial consequences, he considered. His eyes shifted toward Elladan. He arched an eyebrow, his expression never wavering.

Elladan sighed. "Elrohir is completely correct. It is our fault, not Legolas. He didn't want to come but I persuaded him. I wished to show him the riding trails through the fields of flowers in the high up country. If anyone deserves to pay a penalty for our presumption, it is not him."

Elrond considered this and sighed. "I am unaccustomed to you both falling on your swords for another. Am I experiencing the birth of maturity at long last?"

They flushed. Elrohir shifted his feet. "Father, it is the truth as it stands. If there is a penalty I wish to take it full on. No one else must stand punished for my bad judgment."

"I will accept the punishment," Elladan interjected. "I am the oldest. I should have used better judgment."

"It was *my* idea," Elrohir countered, glaring past Legolas at his brother. Elladan turned toward him, frowning.

Legolas watched the conversation go back and forth, his head turning from one to the other even as the men sitting before him did the same. It was almost a surreal experience before Lord Elrond raised a hand and the room fell silent.

For a moment they just stood holding their breath. Then Elrond spoke, his voice soft and even.

"I am impressed by your new found sense of civic responsibility and incipient martyrdom. I will accept both of your requests. You both will be in charge of the stables for two weeks, taking in the horses that arrive and cleaning them each day. You are not to leave the house grounds without my permission. As for Prince Legolas ..."

Legolas swallowed hard and met his lord's gaze with effort.

"You are to exercise better judgment in relation to the requests of these two. They do not mean harm but they have hindered your training and it won't happen again. I am confining you to your room tonight without supper. In the morning, you will resume your duties and discharge them to the high degree of accomplishment that Lord Erestor and Lord Glorfindel have told me of. I am dismissing all three of you now."

For a moment they just stood and then they turned, fleeing the room. When they were gone, Elrond rose and walked to the desk, pouring a glass of wine for himself and the others. As he did, the tension broke and they laughed together for a very long time indeed.

***In a room alone ...

It was dark and Legolas was alone. He repented in private, the hurt of letting down his lord yet again playing over and over on his heart. He wanted to impress the older man, to show him that he was a worthy individual. He was aware that the great lord was taking time and effort with him, talking to him and getting to know him. That was important to Legolas.

His own father didn't do that for him, not often and when they talked it was often one-sided. At this moment Legolas wasn't sure if his father knew even one thing he liked to do. It stung to consider it but it was true. There were few times that he had made hours available to just talk to him.

Yet here he was, conversing with the greatest enemy of their family like they were friends. He felt it, the friendliness and it disturbed him how much he wanted it. Now he had let Lord Elrond down again. He wanted to cry, the stinging pains of shame and self-loathing prickling him as he stared out.

Then he heard it, a soft hissing sound. He turned his head and noted Elladan's face ... or at least the one he felt was Elladan ... leaning out of the window next to his.

"Legolas!" he whispered.

"What? What hellish merriment do you have planned now so that I can disappoint my Lord yet once again?" he asked, a hard edge to his whisper.

Elladan sighed and nodded. "I was wrong. I admit it. I want to talk to you."

"Go away. We've talked enough," Legolas whispered back, closing the window. He turned and walked toward his bed and when he looked back, he heard the window open and a figure dropping inside. "What are you doing in here? Lord Elrond will put me on a donkey back to my father if he catches you in here."

Elladan put his finger to his lips and moved closer, pausing before Legolas as he did. They stared at each other and then Elladan took Legolas' face into his hands and kissed him on the lips, lingering as he did, the thunderstruck boy standing as a statue all the while.

He sighed, staring at Legolas, at the beauty he held in his hands and he felt fire pooling in his gut. Stepping back, sucking in a deep cleansing breath, he turned and climbed back out the window he came from. Legolas watched him go without a sound and then ran to the window, peering out. No one was there. He touched his lips, licking them and then he moved back inside, sitting on the bed in confusion.

He was in a strange house, the house of his father's enemy, working for him, disappointing and pleasing him with equal facility and now the son, Elladan he supposed, of his father's enemy had kissed him. He was churning with confusion and mixed emotions. He longed to speak with his mother. Lying back on his bed, a pillow clutched in his arms, he considered his situation.

He was confused, upset and hungry. In that order.

***Two days later ...

Elrohir watched as Legolas walked to the greenhouse, following Erestor on some errand or two. It had been two days since Elladan had made a visit but it had hit some well defined truth in the youngster. They had not had time to be together but from the awkward glances and tension at table, they had scored.

Something.

What it meant, he wasn't clear about. Legolas was still as comfortable around their father as ever. He just wasn't comfortable around them. It was all too confusing. Stable detail left little time for reflection and as he stood near the paddock, he watched Legolas disappear into the building beyond.

Elladan led out a horse, curry comb in hand. He glanced at the greenhouse, looking at his brother with a questioning gaze. "What?"

"He went in there with Erestor."

Elladan sighed. "I think we need to pull away from this mischief. All we can do is make things more muddled."

"He is feeling something, this I know."

"From your *vast experience*?" Elladan replied sarcastically, combing the muscular rump of a gray horse.

Elrohir turned, eyeing him with a bemused gaze. "You still haven't told me what it was like kissing the son of Thranduil on the mouth."

"And I don't intend to." Elladan walked to the other side of the horse. "I may be a lot of things but I don't kiss anyone and tell the tale."

"That is a lie," Elrohir retorted, moving to stand on the side of the horse opposite his brother. "You had me stand in for you with that girl from the Havens. You had me actually take your place."

"That's different," Elladan replied defensively. "I had to be elsewhere."

"With the boy from the coast. You are a fraud," Elrohir said smugly. "You give the facade of decency but underneath you are as big a pig as I am."

"No one is that big, brother," Elladan countered, a smile growing on his face. "Tell me, what happened between you and her."

"Who?" Elrohir asked, grinning devilishly.

Elladan sighed and stared at him pointedly. Elrohir chuckled and leaned in closer. "You really should have stayed. She was a rousing woman if I say so myself."

Elladan sighed. "Well, at least *someone* had some fun that day," he said, the images of a strangely chaste youngster filling his mind.

Elrohir snorted and turned, watching as Legolas and Erestor walked from the greenhouse, baskets of vegetables and flowers in their arms. Legolas looked at them and diverted his gaze almost immediately. They walked back to the house and disappeared into it. Elrohir sighed.

"He is very pretty," he said, glancing over at his brother. "It must have been very nice kissing those fancy lips."

Elladan sighed, pausing his hand. "It was."

***Later that night ...

The knock on his door caught his attention and he turned, opening it. Surprised by his visitor, he stepped aside and allowed Lord Elrond to enter. Moving to the window, he turned and looked at the painfully neat room of the youngster. He smiled.

"You are no longer confined to your room."

"I know, my lord. I am just ..."

"Yes?" Elrond asked, sitting in a chair as the young man sat on the bed.

"I am unsettled."

"In what way? My vexation at your behavior has long since passed. Your work is given great accolades by those who share it with you."

Legolas smiled, chancing a glance at the great man before him. Elrond's face was gentle and kind, a good face Legolas thought for a fleeting moment. He sighed, folding his hands together.

"I am unsettled by someone else, my Lord. I don't know their intentions."

"Perhaps telling me can help you sort out what they desire?" Elrond coaxed.

Legolas thought a moment and then nodded. "I am not sure what they want. I thought they hated me." He looked at Elrond. "At least I thought he did until he kissed me."

Elrond blinked, considering Legolas' words. "Kissed you? Someone in my household?"

Legolas looked up, caught by the tone of his Lord's voice. "I ... I shouldn't have spoken."

"No," Elrond gestured, catching himself. "It is well you did. You are my responsibility. All of you is, your emotions as well as your health and well-being. You can tell me thus. I will help you sort through it for some kind of sense."

Legolas took a deep cleansing breath and then nodded. Blushing slightly, the unease coming back, he began. "Elladan kissed me."

Elrond blinked, burying with an iron will his surprise. "My son? Elladan?"

"Yes, my Lord. I was as surprised as you."

Elrond nodded, licking suddenly dry lips. "Well ... what are your feelings about this?"

Legolas shrugged. "I am not sure. I am confused. From one moment of being my enemy to wishing to make love to me ... I don't know what to make of it."

Elrond considered his words and nodded. "Nor do I. What do you wish of this encounter? More?"

Legolas looked at him, confusion in his eyes. "I know not."

Nor do I, Elrond considered in his thoughts. "It would appear that perhaps you have chance infatuated my son. It is not unlikely because I will say that you are nearly perfect in your beauty, Legolas. I would be lying if I didn't say so. My son could be moonstruck by this fact."

Legolas looked at Elrond, the words he had just spoken spinning around in his head. He considered his own words and found none. He stared at the older man silently.

Elrond sighed. "I would sleep on it. And I would hope that this will not prevent you from the full pleasure of my household and from me the pleasure of your company."

Legolas nodded, watching as the tall older man rose. Elrond paused a moment as if wanting to say something more and then reached out and squeezed Legolas' shoulder. "Good night, Green Leaf," he said quietly.

With that, he turned and walked to the door, leaving as silently as he had come. Legolas stared at the door for a long time before finally lying down to sleep.

***Nearby ...

Elrond stared at his book, the page unread for many minutes. Elladan was interested in the youngster. For a moment he had been struck numb and now that the shock had warn off, he felt the prickling pain of anxiety permeate him. He didn't know why, not at least consciously, but he felt pangs of unease and regret flowing through him. Elladan wanted the youngster. That should have not been a surprise. What was the shock of the moment for him was how much it bothered him that he did. For it was at that moment that the great Lord of Imladris, Master Elrond of Rivendell felt the first pangs of love enter his heart in a very, very long time.

=0=TBC

c2010


	6. Chapter 6

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Six

Word came and he issued orders. He would be gone for a week. Moving about his study, Elrond considered what he would need and what order the house would manage without his presence. Celeborn had issued an invitation to come to the wood and meet with him. Ethereal presence that he was, Elrond loved him like a father.

He walked from his study and down the corridor, heading out to the barn where he knew his sons were working. Many people had come through the city and he had given most of them shelter in his house. Their horses had to be tended and he suppressed a grin at the usual exclamation of surprise visitors would give when a prince took their horses away.

/... a king is a worthless thing without humility .../

The words came to him unbidden and the face and shy smile of his squire as well. They had begun to work together, Elrond instructing him on such esoterica as records management, keeping a personal journal, problem solving, caring for all manner of catastrophes and learning the fine game of chess. It had thunderstruck him that Legolas had no knowledge of the game. A king could only benefit from such a pass time he considered, stepping out into the sunlight of the back courtyard.

Elladan was unsaddling a new horse and Elrohir was working on a bridle. They looked up and grinned, their angst long ago disappearing with their sense of shame.

"How go the wars?" he asked, leaning on the fence.

"Ask me in a week," Elladan said ruefully. "You wouldn't need a horse handler on the ride to Lothlorien would you?"

Elrond grinned. "Not likely."

Elladan sighed and paused, rubbing a towel on the horse's back.

"How long will you be gone?" Elrohir asked.

"Several days. Lord Glorfindel has discretionary powers over your penance. He's much more firm in the business of penalties in the matter of you two than I am."

"We know," Elladan said.

"I wish to discuss with you the matter of our young squire."

They both stopped and turned to him, bland looks of interest on both their faces. Elrond sighed.

"I am going to say to you that if any mischief befalls him while I am gone, I will take it as a personal reproach to me."

"Father, I'm wounded," Elrohir replied, a slight frown on his face. "He is become like a brother to us."

Elrond shot his son a baleful look. Elrohir blinked and looked at Elrond. "He *has*," he said emotionally.

"A brother? I am told by a little bird that one of you has interest in him that goes beyond brotherhood."

Elladan glanced at Elrohir, blinking. "One of us?"

Elrond nodded, looking from one to the other. "I would think that you would take care with his heart. He is young and an easy target for mischief. I would be sorely disappointed if one of you trifled with his heart."

Elladan cleared his throat. "If what your little bird says is true, what so? Would it disturb you to know such things ... if they are so?"

Elrond considered his words. "It would disturb me if they were of frivolous intent. He is the son of a king and a man who is in deep dislike of me and mine. For you to take advantage of his son while he is in the care of my service, then it would disturb me greatly."

Elladan nodded. "We hear your words."

"Good," Elrond said, patting the horse on the rump. "I will be gone for a time but return as soon as possible. You are all to keep the same schedule of service until I return. I want to know that I have your word on these matters."

Both boys looked at each other and then their father, nodding. "You have it," they said together.

Elrond smiled and turned, walking to the house. Elladan sighed and looked sourly at his brother. "You and your ideas. We are now out of Father's favor. He trusts us not."

"You overreact as usual," Elrohir said, turning back to his work. "He's just being careful with the prince. By the by, tell me ... what more do you plan for Green Leaf?"

"What do you mean, bore?" Elladan said with a slightly haughty air.

"You *know* what I mean. You want him. Say so and be done with it."

Elladan looked at his brother with a mixture of disgust and pity. "Do you always think with your gonads or is there a possibility that you can understand melme at some point in time often doesn't require nakedness and rutting like a pig?"

"You quote Quenya like you know what you're talking about and what a facade that is. Don't quote dead languages to me to gild your true desires. You want Legolas and you act as if that matters not. I know better. You *know* I know *you*."

Elladan sighed dramatically and turned to his task. "Whatever you wish to believe, I care not."

Elrohir snickered and carried the bridle to a hook inside the barn. He knew there was something going on with Elladan, no matter how little and he was determined to be there when it grew.

***In the corridor outside of the study ...

Elrond walked to the door of his rooms, prepared to leave when he saw Legolas standing nearby, a forlorn figure all told. Elrond smiled and gestured him to come, the boy crossing the distance between them slowly.

"I have to go now. I will be gone only a few days. Erestor and Glorfindel have your care in hand."

Legolas nodded, his eyes sad. "Good travels."

Elrond squeezed Legolas' shoulder and nodded. "Thank you, Legolas."

For a moment they didn't say more and then Legolas hugged him, hugging Elrond's neck tightly. Elrond dropped his satchel and hugged him back, holding the tall slim boy as he was held. It felt good, he considered, the form of the youngster very compelling and then it was over as Legolas let go and stepped back awkwardly. He reached down and took Elrond's bag into his hands, looking at him with a pale expression.

"I'll carry this to your horse, my Lord."

Elrond looked at him, at his beautiful sad face and nodded, a slight smile on his own. They walked together, down the stairs and into the front corridor toward the courtyard beyond where horses and riders waited.

Elrond paused by his, taking the bag from Legolas' hands and placed it over the rump of his horse. He fastened it, turning and squeezing Legolas' arm, gifting him with a smile. Legolas smiled back, momentarily lifted from his sadness and watched as the lord of the manor effortlessly mounted his horse. He turned and smiled, waving to Legolas, Erestor, Glorfindel and his sons and then, with his guard about him, rode through the gate to the bigger world beyond.

Legolas watched him go with a rising sense of loss, the comfort of the house around him lessened by several magnitudes. He turned and paused, catching the gaze of Elladan and then he continued onward, entering the house and his chores once more.

***Late that night ...

Elladan stood in the light of the window, one removed from Legolas' room. He considered why he was here, unbeknownst to his younger brother and decided that he was moonstruck for the beautiful boy next door. He had been smacked in the face by love before, usually by a well turned ankle or a beautiful smile but this felt different. Of course it probably wasn't his logical mind argued. It just felt so.

Sighing, he leaned out and saw that the window next door was opened. He climbed out and moved closer, entering the room silently. He looked around, noting that it was empty and he turned walking back to the window to leave. It was then that he saw two very blue eyes staring at him, eyes framed by golden hair. He paused and smiled, leaning his elbows on the window sill.

"There you are."

Legolas sat in the tree, leaning against the trunk and nodded. "I am here."

"You wood elves, I hear you're a strange lot."

Legolas smiled and leaned forward, meeting Elladan's gaze directly. "I hear Noldor are a queer lot."

Elladan smiled in spite of himself. "It seems lonely sitting out there. Why not come in and share some company with me."

Legolas sighed and looked at the moon, its sliver of light weak in the darkness. "It is rather dark out here."

"It is. Come down here."

Legolas sat a moment and then he moved, slipping back inside easily. He turned and met Elladan's gaze, the older boy mesmerized by his beauty. He reached out and ran the back of his fingers down Legolas' cheek, his jaw line and down his neck, the softness of his skin alluring.

"Would it be treason for me to say that you are beautiful?" he whispered.

Legolas smiled slightly. "Treacherous to think good of a wood elf, who I am told are a strange lot."

Elladan smiled, chuckling. "You are. And I mean that in the best way."

He leaned in and kissed Legolas, the younger boy not moving. Elladan nipped at his lower lip, the sensation of softness rushing straight to his groin. He slipped his arms around Legolas' waist, the younger boy slipping his around Elladan's neck. He pulled him close, kissing him with more passion as Legolas slowly began to respond.

He sighed, rubbing his cheek against Legolas'. It was soft and refined, just like the youngster and he kissed him again, the sensations of desire rising through him like a brush fire. He moved backward in the general direction of the bed and by the time he reached it, his hand was down the back of Legolas' pants. He squeezed firm flesh, cool to his touch and then turned, pressing the youngster down onto his own bed.

He was throbbing in every corner of his body and psyche as he shifted, staring into Legolas' face. The youngster's face was flushed, his eyes dreamy and Elladan felt a twitch in his gut that felt painful. He kissed Legolas again, feeling strong hands thread through his hair and then the sound of knocking pierced the dense fog of his lust-filled brain.

He paused, his body plastered along the length of Legolas, the two of them entwined on the bed together. The knocking continued and he rose, nearly growling with frustration. Legolas rose, pulling his shirt together once more and watched as Elladan limped to the window and climbed out.

He turned and walked to the door, smoothing his hair as he did. He opened it and met the smiling face of Glorfindel.

"My lord," he said surprised.

Glorfindel smiled. "Lord Elrond asked me to continue with your studies of chess. I was wondering if you were up for a game?"

Legolas hesitated, staring around his room and then conceded defeat. "I would be glad to learn what you can teach me, Lord Glorfindel."

"Good," he said, stepping aside and letting the boy past him. He hesitated and then walked across the room, peering out the window at the youngster standing on the ledge, plastered against the wall. Grinning broadly, he chuckled. "Nice night, don't you think, Elladan?"

The youngster looked down at his father's best friend and groaned, closing his eyes in dismay.

"You should really come inside. Standing out here in such a disheveled manner, you could catch a cold."

With a snicker, he turned and walked across the room, gathering his charge and walking to the study where the chess game was set up. Outside on the ledge, Elladan of Rivendell cursed all the gods he knew. With effort and will, he crept back inside and closed his window behind him.

***In the study ...

They played games, Glorfindel explaining strategy and the psychology of Lord Elrond's game style to the apt youngster in front of him. He was aware of much, knowing that the interest that Elrond had in the boy was growing. Elrohir had articulated what he sensed early on, even before Elrond himself had noticed. He was aware of the interest that Elladan had in the youngster too, the handsome boy drawing more than his share of interested glances.

He found himself in the middle of a conundrum, which side to choose in this game a perplexing thing and so he took it upon himself for the duration of Elrond's absence to not only shelter the youngster from the attention of others but to find out what he could about Legolas and his own feelings.

"You are very fast in learning this game. You play a bold hand."

Legolas smiled, pleased with the compliment. "I had no knowledge of it until Lord Elrond graciously began to instruct me."

"Lord Elrond has patience even the rocks don't have," Glorfindel replied. "His sons are evidence of that."

Legolas smiled, glancing up at the handsome man before him. "They are different."

"You have brothers yourself?"

"I have two. They are very busy. They help my father rule our domain."

Glorfindel nodded. "It must be nice having brothers. The family tie must never be underestimated."

"I don't see them much and they don't have much time for me. I guess what you say must be true."

Glorfindel looked up, catching a shadow of sadness on the lovely landscape of Legolas' face. It disturbed him. "Lord Elrond likes your company very much."

"He takes time to ask after me. I like that. It surprises me that he does, a man with his burden of cares."

"Lord Elrond is a man of firm mind. He likes what he likes and he likes you."

A flush crept up Legolas' neck as he made his move, putting Glorfindel into check. Glorfindel studied the board, his options fading as he did.

"What say you? Do you love anyone, Legolas?"

Blue eyes met his, eyes filled with emotions. "I don't know, my Lord. There are those that want me and maybe one that I want. I have no clear idea of what is the best path to take."

Glorfindel nodded. "That is often the way of love. It's a serpent sometimes. You hold onto the tail and hope it won't bite you to death."

Legolas nodded, counter moving against Glorfindel. "Check and checkmate," he said, sitting back in triumph.

Glorfindel chuckled and tipped his queen, dead in the water. He looked at the boy and sighed.

"Don't make in haste a decision you will regret. Penance is a lonely business."

Legolas considered his words and nodded. "Sometimes just living is a lonely business, my Lord, but since I have come here I feel better."

Glorfindel smiled. "That makes my heart glad. Another game?"

Legolas nodded, picking up his pieces. As he put them on the board, Glorfindel chose his side.

=0=TBC

c2010


	7. Chapter 7

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Seven

Two days later ...

He watched them play, kicking the ball back and forth and he studied their movements, trying to sort out how the game worked. It appeared that one used their feet to kick the ball past an apposing team and over a line in the stones that marked a boundary for goals. It was so at each end of the square and during a lull in the game while a boy chased the ball, Elrohir jogged over and bade him hello.

"Join us," he said, tugging on Legolas' arm.

Legolas demurred, shaking his head. "I don't know how to play."

"We'll show you. We are one short. You can be that one."

Legolas followed Elrohir over to where Elladan stood, nodding to him. Elladan nodded back, smiling and turned to his brother. "We now have matched teams."

At that point, the other boys came over, all of them dark haired and tall. One of them had cool gray eyes and looked at Legolas with barely contained contempt.

"So the Prince of Mirkwood deigns to play ball with the peasants?"

Elladan turned and glared at the boy, drawing his eye away from the hateful stare of Legolas. "Are you going to play or just talk?"

The boy glanced at Legolas and then Elladan, tossing him the ball. "We're going to defeat you like you've never been defeated before."

They moved back and Elladan turned to his brother and Legolas, pulling them close around him. "We have to annihilate them. Our honor is at stake."

"Whose honor?" Legolas asked, anger in his voice as he glanced at the three boys waiting.

"Both Rivendell and Mirkwood. We have to defend our countries," Elladan said, his eyes holding Legolas'.

Legolas nodded and moved to where he was shown by Elrohir. Then Elladan kicked the ball to the other side. The game began and shouts and rushing feet filled the air with sound. People passing by stopped to watch and on a balcony overlooking the square, Glorfindel sat humming to himself as he followed the lightening quick movements below.

He heard footsteps, taking a glass of refreshment from Erestor as the other man joined him. "What goes here?"

"Behold," Glorfindel replied, sweeping his hand grandly as he propped his feet up on the low border before him. "A re-enactment of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men."

"Where are the men?" Erestor asked blandly, eyeing his partner with amusement.

"You have to suspend reality for a moment, my friend," Glorfindel said with a chuckle. "On one side you have the good forces, us." He pointed at Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas, who were working together to make the first point. They scored and howled, jumping back as the other team, maddened and embarrassed, chased them with the ball.

"And the other side?" Erestor asked.

"That is the side of all that is evil and cruel. Of course, it looks like us but here is where you suspend disbelief. Consider them all minions of the Dark Lord."

"You utter that name here?" Erestor asked, surprised.

"Metaphorically speaking, yes," Glorfindel said, watching as Legolas crashed into a wall, nudged by a boy from the forces of evil. He watched, waiting, noting that Elladan pulled him up while Elrohir engaged the miscreant in heated argument nose-to-nose. "Note that they tripped our golden prince, a tactic not allowed in this game if I am familiar with the rules."

"Ah, a tactic of the forces of evil," Erestor agreed, grinning broadly.

"Exactly," Glorfindel replied, smiling. "In the end our side will win. Probably. The opposing team will suffer the crushing humiliation of defeat. Maybe. It's all in the hands of fate."

Erestor snorted and sighed. "I love the way you think. Right now, it looks like our side is getting the breeches beaten off them."

Elladan missed his shot and they fell back, blocking a shot from the other side. As they moved to set up again, the tall sullen opposition boy elbowed Legolas in the back. He cried out and fell to his knees, holding his side in pain. Elrohir moved to him and then turned on the tall boy, Elladan holding him back with effort.

The others moved back, staring at the three without remorse and both boys turned and helped Legolas to his feet.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Elladan said, touching Legolas' back gingerly.

Legolas winced and straightened with effort. "No. We play and we play to win."

Elrohir smiled and glanced at the others. "If they want to play rough, we give them what they want. Agreed?"

The others looked at Elrohir and then the three at the other end. Legolas nodded and then Elladan agreed, all three turning back to the game. They kicked off and when the other team got near, elbows flew and kicks were had. The other team missed on their scoring attempt.

"Right now, they are winning the day. Just like in the past," Glorfindel said, watching intently, wincing as the forces of evil scored a point on the backside of Elrohir.

"Yes, Glorfindel, but I distinctly remember that a lot of people died doing this such thing. I think we shall require lots of bag balm tonight," Erestor said, flinching as Elladan punched a boy in the side, stealing the ball away.

Glorfindel snorted, laughing out loud, watching as Legolas shoved past a blocker and scored. The boy shoved aside came at him and it looked like a free-for-all would erupt but the two sides split up, moving to regroup once more.

"I should compose something to honor this moment," Glorfindel said, smiling broadly as Elrohir laid an opponent out on the ground on his drive to score. "Perhaps something along the lines of a dirge."

"Funerary? Nice touch from what I'm watching," he said, sipping his drink. He propped his feet up, sighing. "This beats working anytime."

Glorfindel snickered. "The Master of the House should go more often?"

"You didn't hear it from me."

Below them, squaring off, punches were traded and the ball game resumed, all sides tied.

***Lothlorien ...

They had discussed business and then Celeborn asked Elrond to accompany him on his evening stroll. They walked together, the dark sky twinkling overhead and the big trees protecting them against any dangers in the night.

Elrond enjoyed moments like this, when he could talk to Celeborn about anything and everything on his mind. His father-in-law was a very interesting man, a man who could fight, create and woo and win the heart of a very strong-willed and sought-after woman like Galadriel.

Celeborn was ethereal, a man caught in the cusp between reality and the next dimension and so his manner was strange to those unused to him. He was farseeing and intuitive, aware of things beyond reason and aware of the hearts of others.

Walking with him always included an inventory of Elrond's psyche. It was a challenge to be with Celeborn, one he savored, intellectual to intellectual.

"You are happy?" Celeborn asked, peering at Elrond for a second.

"I am," Elrond said, meaning it. "My children are interesting, my country secure and I am fostering a challenging but intelligent and many talented boy."

"Ah, Legolas," Celeborn replied, nodding. "It is good for that one to have a breadth of experience. His household has other priorities for their children, not at all in keeping with the demands of a modern day prince. Thranduil is a traditional man and that is to be admired but his interest in luxury and riches blinds him to the finer things of the world. Travel, education, all of it well makes a good mind and Legolas from what I can discern has a very good mind indeed."

"He does. I am teaching him chess."

"Very good, Elrond," Celeborn replied. He turned and stopped, affixing Elrond with his beautiful eyes. They were never-ending in their depth, eyes that had seen much and they fixed on him now, waiting for a revealing moment in the silent figure they viewed. "You have not spoken of your own self, your heart. I have been at pains to find out where stand you. Your happiness does not include another for whom you may share your thoughts and your love?"

Elrond shook his head, holding the direct gaze with effort. "You ask each time and I tell you the same. I have much to occupy my time and energy. Another would make it difficult."

"And being alone ... it is not difficult?" Celeborn asked, resuming walking again, his hands clasped behind his back.

"It is known," Elrond replied. "I know the ways of it and it is enough for now."

"My daughter ... few loved a child the way my wife and I did her. We were glad that you married her, giving her love and security. She was our only one and we wanted everything for her. You did that for her and we will love you forever. The children you shared, boys and a girl, they are our treasure."

Elrond nodded, slipping his hand through Celeborn's arm. "They are an interesting mix but in all very wonderful."

"They are," Celeborn agreed. "My daughter is long gone and who knows how many ages until the day we can all be reunited. How many ages will you wait until you find your way again?"

"My Lord," Elrond began as Celeborn halted. He raised a hand, silencing Elrond.

"You have no idea how much we miss our daughter. We know that your heart has known much sorrow. Your sons hunt orcs like dogs hunt fleas, searching them out of their holes and lairs because of her suffering. We have discussed this a long time, my Lady and I and we wish you to know that we give you our leave to seek love again."

Elrond stared at him, silenced by his words. Celeborn stared into the sky, the weak light of the moon casting a halo around the silver of his hair. A thousand ghosts surrounded them, men and women long gone and when Celeborn turned to walk on, Elrond felt every one of them. He slipped his hand through Celeborn's arm as they walked into the night and their conversation.

***Elsewhere ...

"Sit still."

Glorfindel staunched the blood flow and put a plaster on the cut. The swelling over Elrohir's eye would take a while to come down, even with the ministrations of both himself, Erestor and a local healer.

Legolas rubbed his knee, the dent of another's boot still visible below it and the black of his eye ever increasing. Elladan groaned as he rose from the table, tugging his tunic back down. They were battered and bruised, blood-stained and woebegone but they were also victorious.

They thanked their benefactors and limped away, heading for their rooms to lie down. It had been a melee at the end, any pretense of sportsmanship going by the wayside. The walkways and balconies were lined with people cheering their favorite side as they beat each other up from one end of the courtyard to the other.

In the end, the forces of light triumphed over the forces of darkness and the Second Alliance of Elves and half-men prevailed once again. The other side lost with ill grace and the catcalls they gave each other echoed off the walls. Legolas, supported by Elladan made it to the exit before Glorfindel liberated him.

Dinner would be soon and they would be expected to attend, battered or no. Climbing the stairs was difficult and as he entered his room, Legolas headed for this bed, lying down stiffly on the covers. The door opened and Elladan entered, sitting on the bedside, his hand resting on Legolas' leg.

"How do you feel?" he asked, rubbing his jaw where it was tender.

"Victorious," Legolas said, rubbing his face with his hands.

"That was the best part."

"They don't play this game this way normally do they," Legolas stated, rather than asked.

Elladan shook his head. "Not normally."

"It was because of me," Legolas said, his voice bitter. "It was because of my name and because I'm from Mirkwood."

"No," Elladan said, his hand sliding up to rest on Legolas' thigh. "It was because they are simple wits."

Legolas sighed. "Simple wits you say."

"I say so," Elladan said, moving to sit closer. He leaned down and kissed Legolas, sliding his hand even higher. He rested it on Legolas' crotch, the form beneath his hand more than pleasing. Legolas sighed against Elladan's lips, his eyes dreamy once again. Elladan fell into joy just staring and then he sat up, reality intruding with the pain and stiffness of his body. "I want you but I think I've broken everything I need to make it happen."

Legolas snorted, smiling even against the pain in his jaw. "Everything?"

"Well ... maybe not *everything*," Elladan said, leaning down again.

"Dinner time," a cheery voice said from near the door. They both turned and looked, noting Glorfindel's form leaning against the doorway. Elladan sighed and rose slowly, moving even slower to the door and the hallway beyond. Glorfindel moved closer, smiling at Legolas.

"Need a hand up?" he asked.

Legolas sighed and nodded, offering a hand. He rose slowly, groaning as he stood. Then with the steadying hand of Glorfindel behind him, he limped out the doorway to dinner.

***In Lothlorien ...

He stood looking at the sky, at the brief snatches he could see. He located his star and then gave his mind over to other things, to the generosity of his in-laws and to the loneliness that had shaped him these many years.

In his house was someone who made him feel young again. The thought of it made him wince, the idea of him leaching the youth from a youngster almost more pathetic than he cared to articulate. Yet so it was. Legolas was young, still forming and very beautiful. Did he love the boy or was he bewitched by his beauty and his need for someone to notice him?

Elrond couldn't say. He just knew he wanted to be home, to walk with Legolas again and to find out what his days entailed. He enjoyed that immensely, the amusing company and the beauty as well. That part held him captive.

/... just like Elladan .../

He sighed and considered the totality of the boy. It was in the doing of it that he felt the flickers of his emerging emotions fan themselves a little. The son of his worst enemy was someone he devoted much thinking too and as he did, he realized that it couldn't end but ill.

=0=TBC

c2010


	8. Chapter 8

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Eight

He rode in three days later, accompanied by the contingent of Rivendell Elves that were his guard. He dismounted, handing off his horse and walked to the door of his house, saddle bags in hand. He entered, staring around the lovely interior and it occurred to him that it was as unchanged as ever. In all the thousands of years he had lived here, little had changed in any substantial way.

He sighed and climbed the stairs, his eyes open for the one he wanted to see most and when he reached his study, he was slightly depressed at not catching a glimpse of Legolas. Tossing his bags on a chair, he unfastened his cloak after shucking his bow and quiver.

It joined the bag and as he turned, he paused, a smile crossing his face unbidden. Standing in the doorway, silent as a ghost, Legolas watched him. He sighed deeply. "Good morrow."

"Good morrow, my Lord," Legolas said in a hushed voice. "Welcome home."

A warmth like honey filled him and he smiled. "It is good to be home. You are well?"

"I am," he replied. Moving closer, he hesitated and then turned, gathering Elrond's weapons, his bow and quiver and his sword and belt. He turned and smiled, his eyes shining. "I'll take care of your baggage."

Elrond nodded, noting a fading black eye, and watched as Legolas turned, walking toward the bedroom with his things. In the doorway, grinning broadly, Glorfindel stood watching as well.

"Welcome home, my Lord."

Elrond smiled and nodded. "What news of home? I am curious about his black eye."

Glorfindel smiled, visions of the ball game coming unbidden. "They were all busy at separate endeavors during the time of your absence. They have all been good boys. Mostly."

"The eye?"

Glorfindel smiled. "A ball game with others gone awry. Nothing too worrisome."

Elrond chuckled, relief filling him and he turned, moving to the balcony beyond. He filled his lungs with fresh air, leaning his hands on the railing. "It is good to be home. I must tell you, all the news isn't good. There is orc activity near the great wood. Orcs are creating mischief and there is news that they swarm in great numbers."

"That isn't good," Glorfindel agreed, his expression serious at the news. "Is that why Lord Celeborn asked your presence?"

"Partly." Elrond sighed. "Partly that and other things. It appears that King Thranduil is nearby and would like his son with him a few days. He would then return him to my care once he passed by."

Glorfindel looked at him, measuring Elrond's mood. "What say you of this?"

"He is the son of Thranduil. Even though it is not a proper thing to come to Legolas at this point in his fostering, I cannot deny a man access to his child."

Glorfindel nodded. "Celeborn had to tell you? Isn't it customary for a lord to seek leave of another for various purposes by direct contact in some fashion ... a messenger or such?"

"Thranduil doesn't feel so, evidently," Elrond conceded, turning and noting for the first moment that Legolas was standing in the doorway. He straightened and smiled, gesturing the youngster into the room. "Legolas, good news. Your father is nearby and seeks your company for a few days."

Legolas stared at him and nodded, his expression unchanged. "When, my Lord?" he asked.

Elrond looked at him, at the lack of response to supposedly good news and replied, "Tomorrow to be exact. He will send riders to fetch you."

"How long will I stay with him?" he asked, a slight note of distress in his voice.

"For three days," Elrond replied, noting the change.

Legolas nodded and sighed. "Can I do more for you, my Lord?"

Elrond smiled and shook his head. "You have done much already."

Legolas nodded and turned, walking out of the room and onward to other things. They watched him go and then Glorfindel turned to him, a slight grin on his face.

"That went over well."

Elrond snorted and turned, watching as the youngster crossed the courtyard below. He stared at him, at his golden hair and his graceful form. He walked to the stable and disappeared, reappearing with Elrond's own horse. Legolas began to groom him, working the fatigue and trail dust out of the stallion and Elrond smiled. This was the job of someone else and Legolas was taking it up himself. He wondered what it might mean between them.

Glorfindel watched, the implications of Elrond's thoughts clear on his face. In an unguarded moment his suspicions were confirmed and he made a silent vow to ensure that the possibilities that Elrond so clearly longed for had every chance to come to fruition.

"He's a remarkable boy," Glorfindel said quietly.

"Yes ... he is," Elrond said dreamily. For a moment there was nothing more and then he gathered himself, suddenly aware of his surroundings. He cleared his throat and turned, walking back to his rooms to bathe and change.

Glorfindel watched him go, thoughts filling his mind. Elrond was indeed infatuated and if his past was any indication for the present and future, he wouldn't act on his feelings. Perhaps, Glorfindel considered, a little intervention was needed. As he walked to the door, heading for his own duties, he made up his mind. A little intervention would be a good thing in this case, a good thing indeed.

Dinner was filled with laughter and conversation as the 'Last Alliance of Elves and Half-Men' was recounted to the Lord of the Manor. Elrohir and Elladan gave ample praise to the Prince of Mirkwood, declaring that the honor of their two countries was still intact.

Elrond smiled and nodded, noting that Legolas was silently picking at his food. He sighed and sat back, only half enjoying the conversation around him. When dinner was over, they rose and walked to the balcony to relax and talk over the day.

Legolas stood in the doorway, waiting for Elrond and when he got near, he turned and stepped before him. "My Lord, may we walk together?"

Elrond smiled and nodded, turning and walking to the doorway and the paths that led to the riverside beyond. Elladan watched them go, slightly perturbed by the sight. Glorfindel smiled at him, shaking his head. Elladan rose and walked to the edge of the balcony, staring down as his father and Legolas stepped out, taking the long winding path downward toward the river.

"They look well together," Glorfindel ventured.

Elladan didn't bite but he looked at the older man. "Say you?"

"I say, Master Elladan, they look well together." He grinned as he watched the expression on Elladan's face. He was aware of the war the boy was having internally and he stoked the fire with his words. "They look very well together indeed. Your father is such a lonely figure. It is good to see him with someone who can make him smile."

Elladan turned and watched them, confirmation of Elrohir's words clear in the meaning. He sighed, his better angels fluttering in his heart and he made the emotional decision to step back. If his father was indeed infatuated with Legolas, he wouldn't stand in the way. He stood and watched until they disappeared and then he turned back and joined the conversation.

The water flowed by, dark and swift and they walked along the river bank side-by-side. It was shadow cast outside, the moon nearly disappeared and all around them the sounds of night creatures could be heard. Legolas paused and knelt down, staring into the water silently.

"You are troubled?" Elrond ventured.

Legolas didn't answer a moment and then he rose, staring at Elrond, his emotions reflected in his eyes. "My father wants me to come and you have just arrived."

Elrond felt his heart melt as he looked at Legolas, the emotional distress so clear on his handsome face tugging at him.

"I would think that you would want to see your father, Legolas."

"I do," he said, turning and staring at the river. "It's just that ..."

Elrond stepped closer, standing next to the tense youngster. "Just what?" he asked gently.

"It's just that," Legolas began, turning and staring into Elrond's face. They were close, nearly chest to chest and Legolas stilled, his eyes filled with longing. Then he turned and moved away, biting his lower lip as he did. "I missed you that's all."

Elrond felt his heart burst, the emotions it contained over spilling. He sighed, moving closer, forcing the issue even as he loathed himself for doing such a manipulative thing with someone less experienced. He wanted a token, something that would help him pass the next three days and as Legolas turned, he received it.

Legolas stared at him and then stepped forward, slipping his arms around Elrond's neck. Elrond embraced him back, holding him as tightly as he could. They stood together, the river their only witness as they pledged without words their hearts.

Elrond sighed, his eyes stinging with tears. He felt the strength of the youngster in his arms, the power of his youth, the dignity of his spirit and they welled in him, emotions long suppressed, like the tide in a full moon along the sea shore.

"I will miss you," Legolas whispered. "You just came back and now I have to leave. I thought I would never pass the time before your return."

Elrond smiled, burying his face in the soft golden silk of Legolas' hair. "I missed you. I missed you, Legolas."

Legolas sighed, releasing Elrond slightly. He stared into his eyes, the passion of his emotions clear on his face. Then he leaned forward and kissed the older man, softly and sweetly. Elrond felt his heart clutch, the desire that swept him almost overpowering. He accepted the kiss, the gift of his lover and sighed against Legolas' lips.

"You have no idea how long I have waited for this moment," he whispered as he stared at Legolas, memorizing his expression for his dreams. "I have waited centuries for you."

Legolas smiled, leaning in once more. He kissed Elrond, lingering on his lips as the older man pulled him closer. He kissed Elrond again, lightly and softly, over and over. He kissed Elrond's lips, his cheeks and his brow, imparting without words what he felt.

Elrond smiled, closing his eyes to the feather-like softness of Legolas' caresses. Soft lips touched him, awaking in him centuries of longing and as they stood together, he knew he would never be more happy than this moment. If he died now, he would die happy.

The water rushed by and they stood together, the morning far away as the world telescoped downward. There was only the two of them and this moment that they shared. Reality was pushed back and they had all the time they needed.

Elrond sighed and opened his eyes, staring with love at the youngster in his arms. Legolas embraced Elrond once more, laying his head on Elrond's shoulder. Elrond tightened his grip, afraid to let go.

"I will be waiting for you when you return," he said, rubbing Legolas' back with his hand. "Three days will be an eternity."

"As was your leaving this week. I thought it would never end."

Elrond chuckled, squeezing Legolas. "Nor did I."

"What does this mean, my Lord?" Legolas asked, his eyes searching Elrond's face. "What does this mean, this changed state between us?"

Elrond sighed, happiness animating every corner of his being. "It means, my dear Legolas, if your father ever finds out, or anyone else, you will be disgraced as will I."

"I will not tell him," Legolas said defiantly, his face becoming cold with determination.

Elrond smiled and leaned forward, kissing him softly. The firm expression melted away, replaced by one of longing and desire. Elrond sighed, the sight more beautiful than his dreams.

"It means that I love you," he said, voicing what had been in his heart for some time.

Legolas sighed, nodding. "I love you," he whispered. "I have from the first day."

Elrond smiled. "You cover it well."

He frowned ruefully. "I was uncertain if you would care for me being placed in your household. I just saw you and I felt ... I felt from the moment you tipped your glass that I was at home."

Elrond smiled. "I was moved by your suffering."

Legolas nodded. "I know. It took me a while to sort it all out, the kindness and time you have taken. I couldn't hope that you might feel it possible to love me."

"Why?"

"You are a great lord, maybe the greatest among all our people. You are wise and worldly, you have much learning and you are filled with years. I am a sapling compared to your mighty oak."

Elrond smiled. "You are beautiful to me, Green Leaf. I feared that my years would be a barrier between us. They still might in the long run."

"I don't think so," Legolas said stubbornly. "I don't feel them as a barrier. I hope you won't either. I want to know you, to know your heart. I want to know what you've seen, to learn your adventures. If that is ..." He paused, suddenly uncertain. "If you want to tell me these things."

Elrond smiled and hugged him, squeezing him tightly. "Why would I not?"

Legolas smiled and hugged him back, rubbing his cheek against the soft dark silk of Elrond's long hair. "Thank you."

Elrond sighed, layers of sorrow slipping away like scales. "Thank you, Green Leaf," he whispered.

It was late in the evening when they walked back into the house, most of the occupants either sleeping or otherwise occupied out of sight. Up the winding staircase they walked, down the corridor to the room where Legolas slept. They talked together for a moment and then Elrond leaned in, kissing Legolas softly. The youngster smiled and reluctantly turned, walking into his bedroom.

Elrond stood until the door closed and then walked onward, heading for his own chambers. Nearby, watching with satisfaction, Glorfindel nodded, relief flooding him as he turned away.

The night was dark and the possibilities unlimited. Now all he had to do was get his lord through the next three days in one piece.

The house was silent as the stars climbed overhead and in two different rooms, two people waited, unable to sleep. The morning would be coming soon, all too soon for them both.

=0=TBC

c2010


	9. Chapter 9

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Nine

They arrived the next morning, a contingent of riders bearing the livery of Mirkwood, sitting on their horses as their captain walked to the door. Greeted by Glorfindel, Ellan of Mirkwood struck up a conversation with a man he hadn't seen in years.

Although Elrond's messenger and delegate-at- large for all missions of greatest import, Ellan had missed Glorfindel on the few trips he had made to the fastness of Mirkwood. Now they met and caught up quickly on the news, waiting as they both did for Legolas to appear.

He was standing in the corner of his room, pulling on his bow and quiver. Elrond helped him, smoothing the leather straps and when he turned and faced the older man, it was with a sorrow-filled expression.

"I wish I wasn't going," he said with a sigh.

Elrond nodded, a slight smile on his face. "Then the desire is unanimous. I will find the next three days very tedious."

Legolas smiled slightly, considering him with a cocked head. "That somehow makes me feel better."

Elrond snorted and turned, gazing at the door wistfully. "I suppose you must go."

Legolas nodded and turned, walking for the door when he paused and returned, standing before Elrond. Elrond pulled him into his arms and into a kiss, a desperate one, filled with his own anguish. Legolas kissed him back and reluctantly stepped away, hurrying for the door where he vanished. Elrond sighed and turned to the window, looking out into the courtyard.

Legolas was already at his horse, mounting and turning to look for him again. Elrond sighed, raising a hand, watching as Legolas returned it. With a sigh he turned his horse and together with his fellows, rode through the door toward the road beyond.

Elrond watched them go, a chill settling over his heart. He stood there a long time before turning and looking around. He walked to the bed and sat down, pulling the pillow from the covers. He smelled it, the scent of his lover's hair filling him with a sadness he hadn't felt in a long time.

He put it down and stood, an object catching his eye giving him pause. He walked to a table and picked up a small white stone. Legolas had collected it, he considered, finding in the perfect roundness of it something beautiful.

/... beautiful like him .../

He took it and put it into his pocket, determining that he would hold on to it until Legolas returned. That way he would feel less lonely and more comforted. As he mused on his situation, his practical brain asserted itself and he walked to the door to begin his day.

He reached his father's encampment on the Bruinen River, riding for half of a day with the men sent to fetch him. They dismounted and aides took the horses, freeing him up to meet his father after many weeks away. He took a deep cleansing breath and walked through the encampment toward the tent where his father's banner flew in the breeze.

Pausing outside, he nodded to an aide and moved to enter. The aide stopped him, shaking his head.

"Your father is preoccupied, young prince," he said. "If you can wait a moment I will tell him you have arrived."

Legolas nodded, sighing as he stood before his father's tent, the contrast with the Lord of Imladris more than painfully evident. For a moment he stood cooling his heels and then the aide returned, a strained expression on his face.

"Your father expresses his pleasure that you are here but he is in conference with several of his captains over the matter at hand. He would like you to make yourself to home and he will see you at dinner."

Legolas sighed, his expression falling. The aide shifted uncomfortably. "You can find your tent, my Lord. He might finish early. If he does I will fetch you promptly."

Biting back a retort at the obvious pity in the young man's voice, Legolas nodded, smiling weakly. "Thank you. I will."

He turned and walked away, careful to appear unhurried and as he did it occurred to him that he had no idea where he was to sleep that night. He didn't care really, considering the only bed he desired was in Rivendell and so he wandered, making his way to the banks of the river.

It ran shallow here and he could see the bottom, the glistening of agates in the water calling to him. He bent down and collected them, choosing only the best ones and when he had a small handful he considered what he would do with them.

They would go to his Lord Elrond, the lot of them in some fashion but what it would be was elusive. As he stood on the river bank, his eyes moving from the glittering stones in his hand to the water again, he heard footsteps and turned, meeting the eyes of his oldest brother.

"Hello," he said, hugging Legolas tightly.

Legolas hugged him back, surprised at the filial recognition. "Hello."

Aranel looked at his hand and smiled. "Still collecting rocks?"

"Only the interesting ones," Legolas said, feeling slightly foolish. He slipped them into his pocket, turning to his brother. "I figured you would be with Father at his meeting."

"It broke up. I was sent to fetch you."

Legolas nodded, staring at the river once more. "I love this river."

"There are other rivers, Legolas. Some of them don't pass through the valley of Imladris. Those are the ones that matter."

Legolas felt his cheeks burn and the urge to turn and argue was upon him. He looked at his brother, his gaze distracted and felt alienation setting in. Aranel had never been to Imladris and had never seen its beauty or met her people. He had only the narrowness of his own experience to draw on and it had dire consequences for Imladris because of it.

"I love this one," he said stubbornly. "It feeds waterfalls untold and runs through the great valleys beyond here."

"Through Elrond's country," Aranel said, his opinion of what he felt of that place and man clear.

Anger flared in Legolas and he looked at his brother with angry eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Aranel looked at Legolas with pity. "I knew this would happen. I knew that you would be taken in. I told Father that you were too young and impressionable to go to that place alone."

Legolas felt his anger flare and he turned, walking past his brother up the hill. "You don't know anything, Aranel. Nothing at all."

He watched his brother stomping off and sighed, disquiet settling upon him. "I know more than you can imagine, Legolas. More than you know."

Dinner that night was elegant, Thranduil never traveling without a certain style. He sat at the table, the stars overhead bright in the sky as his party ate dinner and talked. Legolas sat nearby, his two brothers on either side in places of honor. He wasn't old enough or high enough in rank to earn such placement. It occurred to him then that he sat many times next to Elrond, the place of honor freely given him by that exceptional person.

He sighed, lost in thought, only noticing his father speaking to him after being prodded by someone. Turning toward Thranduil, he sat straighter.

"Legolas, I wanted to know how you were. As it is you were lost in some waking dream," his father admonished to the delight of all around him.

Legolas flushed slightly, sighing inwardly. "I am well, Father."

"Tell us about Rivendell and the great lord of the valley," Thranduil prodded, an edge entering his voice.

Legolas cultivated a bland expression, shrugging slightly. "He is learned and lives in a great house surrounded by waterfalls. The river flows through the middle and great trees shelter the people."

"I am told that he lives in great luxury," Aranel said, watching Legolas' face as he considered the comment.

"His wealth is of many kinds. He does not value gold or silver as much as wisdom and conversation."

"Then he is a great fool," Galdor replied. The younger of the two oldest sons of Thranduil, he was the most like their father and he spoke bluntly often.

Legolas felt his face become frozen, so great was his rage and he worked to control it, loathe to let anyone know of his anger. He shrugged and looked away, ignoring the comment but it was clear on his face how he felt about it. Galdor leaned forward, peering at his youngest sibling with interest.

"Tell me, Legolas ... what say you about the great lord of the manor?"

Legolas looked at him, his face composed but his eyes filled with fire and shrugged casually. "My views are hardly worth mentioning."

"I would like to hear them, Legolas. Truthful ones," Thranduil said, looking at his son through wary eyes.

Legolas looked at him and then sighed, shrugging. "He's different than us."

"Different? How?" Galdor continued.

"His goals for his people and his country are different than ours. His likes and dislikes different. Just different."

It was quiet a moment and then Aranel leaned forward, peering at his brother with intensity.

"Then, Legolas, if your stay in the great city is cut short you won't have any regrets?"

Legolas turned and met Aranel's gaze, holding it levelly. "None."

It was silent again and then Thranduil poured himself a glass of wine. He looked at his son over the top of the glass and nodded. "Then I shall see to it that this is come to pass as soon as the Lord and Lady permit."

Legolas shrugged, his stomach turning over at the thought. For the rest of the meal he didn't eat nor speak, instead concentrating on the only thing that mattered. Figuring out how to return down the valley to Rivendell.

By the time he was ready to leave, Legolas was almost coming out of his skin. He lingered outside the tent of his father, waiting to bid him farewell, when Galdor and Aranel stepped out, noticing him pacing by his horse. Galdor nudged his brother and walked over, Legolas pausing nervously.

"You are going back to clean the boots of the great lord of the valley."

Legolas stared at Galdor, his aggravation barely contained. "I go back to do what the Lord and Lady of the Wood have commanded, what my father has been told to do for the good of all of us."

Aranel sighed and turned to leave when Thranduil stepped from the tent, a message tube in hand. He walked to the boys and handed the tube to Legolas.

"Put that in your bags and give to Elrond with your own hand," he said, watching as Legolas complied. He held out his hand and they clasped arms, Thranduil squeezing Legolas' hand. "Take care with yourself and come back to your mother and I the same good boy you left us."

"Tell my mother I miss her," Legolas said, his eyes burning in spite of his irritation.

"She knows that. She sends her love to you," Thranduil said, watching as Legolas mounted his horse. "I will intercede with the Lady and Lord of Lothlorien and see if I can end this farce before you face the winter snows."

Legolas bit his lip and nodded, fear creeping into his heart. "Farewell," he said, moving past the group and out to the trail that would take him back to Rivendell. A group of soldiers formed around him and they galloped out of camp on their way.

Aranel watched them go and turned to Thranduil, considering the images that filled his mind, images that had formed there from the moment Legolas returned.

"He is kindly disposed to Rivendell and its Lord," he said, watching his father's face.

"So it would seem," Thranduil said, watching his youngest child disappear from view. "I feared as much, so impressionable my Green Leaf is but I will send my embassy to Celeborn and seek his return before he suffers anymore from exposure to people I cannot countenance."

Galdor nodded, looking at the empty road. "I fear you may be too late as it is."

Thranduil had no comment to that.

By the time they arrived in Rivendell, the sun was beginning its descent through the sky. Legolas dismounted and pulled his saddle bags off, watching as Glorfindel talked to Ellan for a moment. The group demurred, preferring to head back and so they stood together, watching as the Mirkwood Elves followed their Imladris counterparts back out through the labyrinth of checkpoints that marked entrance to the city.

"You look well," Glorfindel said, smiling at the youngster before him.

"I am glad to be back," Legolas said, his heartfelt joy evident.

"Give me your gear and go see the Lord of the house. I will take care of your horse," Glorfindel said, reaching for Legolas' saddle bags.

Legolas smiled broadly and almost handed them over before remembering his father's message. He took it out and relinquished them, turning and hurrying inside, his eyes searching here and there as he hurried.

Climbing the stairs two by two, he hurried with pounding chest to the study where Elrond usually was, bursting inside once there. Elrond looked up, rising from his reading table and smiled, filled with pleasure at the sight. Legolas was covered with trail grime, his hair windblown and his arms filled with baggage but to Elrond he was beautiful.

"I came straight back," Legolas said, closing the distance between them. He rushed forward, dropping his bag and flung himself into Elrond's arms. He kissed the older man, passionately and wildly, so happy was he to see him once more.

Elrond staggered back, the full weight of the youngster falling against him and embraced Legolas tightly. He kissed him over and over, tongue and lips having their way and when they stepped back, breathless and disheveled, Elrond laughed out loud.

"I would hate to see what you were like if you were gone for a week," he said, hugging the youngster again.

Legolas hugged him, running his fingers through Elrond's long hair. "I would be twice as desperate for you, my Lord. Twice as needy."

Elrond sighed, holding him tightly. "I would never want to put you in such sad straits," he said, kissing Legolas' neck over and over.

They stood together and then Legolas remembered, turning and retrieving the message tube from his father. He turned and handed it to Elrond, uncertain what it might contain. "My father gave me this. I don't know what it contains but I think you should have it what with the unrest along the frontier."

Elrond nodded and pulled the message out, turning toward the window to read it in better light. Legolas watched him, desperate to pick up where they left off but as Elrond read the message, his expression hardened and by the time he was finished he was filled with outrage.

Legolas looked at him as he turned, filled with fear and anxiety and watched as Elrond crumpled the message and threw it into the fire nearby. He stood breathless with fear as he watched his lord stand like a statue near the window. He didn't dare move. He didn't make a sound. He just waited palsied with fear for something to happen.

Anything.

=0=TBC

c2010


	10. Chapter 10

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Nine

For a moment there was only a seething rage, pulsing and jabbing within him as he stood in silence. Then he turned back to the fire, his face filled with anger, moving toward it in his emotional turmoil. That is when he caught a glance, just a glance and paused, the figure of Legolas once more registering.

Turning, staring at his pale face and wide eyes, he swallowed hard. Licking dry lips he gathered his emotions tightly, moving to stand in front of the youngster. Legolas stepped back, his hands clenched tightly.

"Legolas ..." Elrond whispered, resting his hands on Legolas' arms. There was a tremor and then he stilled, his wide eyes looking into Elrond's own, fear and trepidation palpable. "I'm sorry."

Legolas relaxed minutely, moving closer to Elrond. He lay his head on Elrond's shoulder, relaxing more when Elrond encircled him with his arms. They stood together for minutes and minutes and then Legolas stepped out, walking to the fire and kneeling.

"What did it say?" he asked, his voice a soft whisper. He looked up at Elrond, staring at him with sad eyes. "What did my father say that wounded you so?"

He stood silently a moment and then he sighed. "It's nothing for you to worry about."

Legolas rose and stared at him. "It is. I wish to know. My father will not come between us."

Elrond considered his words and then moved to sit on a chair. Legolas moved to another and stared at him, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Your father has made demands. First and foremost, they concern you. He wishes that you be given duties more compatible to your station. He also says that he expects that you will not be ... how did he put it ... 'molested' in any manner during your stay with me."

"Molested?" Legolas asked, offended. "In what manner?"

"Any manner. It appears that news of your game activities perhaps has reached him in some manner."

"There was a crowd watching but it was nothing. The game was nothing," he protested.

Elrond raised his hand. "It could have been enough to raise his ire."

"So what!" Legolas said, rising. He turned toward the fire. "My father isn't here. He isn't going to direct me like I'm a child. I'm not one," he said, turning his piercing gaze upon Elrond.

Elrond nodded. "I know."

Legolas considered the rage he had seen and moved closer, sitting again. "There is more, more about me isn't there."

Elrond sighed. "He does not wish that you and I form any kind of personal relationship between us, that he expects you to remain ... unbothered by me ... to put it more delicately than he did ..." Elrond sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Your father has the opinion that I am in some way corrupting you. What did he ask about when you were there?"

Legolas thought. "He asked if I was well and there were questions about what the valley and household were like. He asked about you."

"Did he now?"

"I told him nothing," Legolas said rising. He walked to the window and turned, anger on his face. "I don't tell them things that matter. My brothers and father ... they don't know what matters to me because I never tell them. Only my mother knows me. Only her."

Elrond rose and walked to him, pulling him into his arms. "Your father is a hard man, Legolas. If he knew that what he suspicions had any basis for fact, he would be here with an army."

"My father can't direct my life," Legolas said, stepping back from Elrond. "I make my own choices."

Elrond smiled, feeling slightly better. "Your father has dominion over you for a few more years. You are still in your minority."

"I can make my own way if I have to," he replied defiantly. Then he wavered, looking at Elrond silently for a moment. "I would think I have allies in the world now."

Elrond pulled him into an embrace. "You do, my green leaf. You have ports in the storm."

Legolas embraced him, holding him tightly as the misery of the moment bled away. All he wanted to do was be held. "I love you. Those days were long and empty without you."

"As they were here," Elrond said, kissing Legolas' neck. "Have you eaten?"

Legolas looked at him. "At a small pub in Bree."

Elrond nodded. "Go and bathe. Change into clean clothes and join me for supper. I miss your company and I wish it."

Legolas smiled and nodded, hesitating. "Are we all right?"

Elrond nodded and kissed him softly. "We were never wrong."

Legolas smiled, a brilliant sight and stooped, picking up his bags. He turned and stared at Elrond and turned again, leaving the room. Elrond stood a moment, staring at the door and the beautiful vision of the young man who had just left. Sighing, he turned and walked to his table, taking parchment and quill in hand. With a moment of reflection, he sat down and composed a reply to Thranduil of Mirkwood.

They moved on, traveling down the road that followed the Bruinen River. It was Elrond's road and his territory and the protocol of passage that would have permitted such a thing had not been pressed into service.

Thranduil had made decisions, deciding in the growing crisis that he would have a larger role for himself and his kingdom than usual in the past. Before, the Elves of Lorien and Imladris were first in importance, the bulk of any army rising from their populations.

Men rallied to them, the Men of the West and in the doing of things those hosts had accrued much glory. All of Thranduil's life, he had lived with the bitter ashes of his father's death, the sorrow of it turning sour in the memory. There was much to avenge he considered as they moved eastward, passing villages and towns that benefited from the influence of the Elves of the Bruinen Valley.

At his side his sons rode, a handsome sight by any measure. They were golden-haired, tall and beautiful, the way of Elves everywhere but among the Noldor. Their dark hair set them apart in Thranduil's mind, reminding him of the disorder of his own family history.

The day his father died was a black hole in his life, sucking the future downward as he struggled to pull it back up. He had to make things right and he raised his sons and daughter to standards that he felt were compatible with that goal. They would be self reliant, strong and hard enough to make tough decisions. His kingdom prospered under that outlook and he would enlarge it for his children by applying the same standards in all things.

They moved on, going noticed everywhere and when the news arrived at Imladris, the great lord of the valley was not amused. But he hid it against the time he would rectify things, so unwilling was he to show his rage again. Legolas had been shocked and he wouldn't put him in the middle of things again.

Rising from his desk, Elrond summoned an aide and gave a message tube to him. He told him that Lord Glorfindel would be taking it with him when he rode to Lothlorien the next day. He would deliver it personally to Thranduil, who would be on the road some place in between. The aide nodded and hurried away and as he did Elrond put the matter into the back of his mind. He had other more interesting matters to take care of now.

Supper was light and conversation was plentiful. Elrond dined, feeling young at heart again. Many of the usual dinner guests were gone, Elrohir and Elladan out with companions searching the lay of the land in a quest for information on orc activity. Glorfindel excused himself as he was leaving early and pretty soon it was just the two of them together.

Elrond smiled, pouring more wine and they sat together in companionable silence. Legolas had changed, the road grime gone from his appearance and he relaxed with his glass feeling more at home at that moment then he had in three days with his family.

"Your mood, my Lord ... it has passed?" he ventured.

Elrond smiled and nodded. "I am sorry for the storm. I have no wish to cause discord for you and your father. I would be loathe to have that happen to my own children."

"My father is driven by ghosts," Legolas said with a sigh. "My grandfather still lives among us."

"Your grandfather was an interesting man," Elrond ventured.

Legolas smiled in spite of himself. "I am sure that there are other adjectives you can apply should you care to."

Elrond smiled sheepishly.

"But I'm glad you are kind," Legolas said, reaching over and squeezing Elrond's hand. "That part of you ... the kindness ... it was unexpected and much appreciated."

Elrond looked at him, at his gentle eyes and sighed. "I cannot imagine not being kind to you, not taking all the time necessary for you. Your father is a fool." For a moment it was quiet and Elrond shook his head. "That was wrong. I apologize."

Legolas smiled. "Accepted."

Elrond rose and pulled Legolas to his feet. "Let's go outside."

They turned and walked together, moving to the balcony to stand alone. Candle light lit the room behind them and the glow of stars in the sky gave weak light to the woods surrounding them. The fall of water filled the air.

"I missed the waterfalls," Legolas said, moving to the railing and looking out. "They sound like music to me."

"When we first came here it was as if we had found a blessed place. The waterfalls were healing in those dark times."

Legolas turned and looked at him. "You have age and wisdom. What do you see when you look at me?"

Elrond considered his question, noting the interest and the unease in the youngster's eyes.

"I see someone who will grow great in wisdom. I see someone who is worthy of love." Elrond smiled. "I see someone who will never cease to surprise me with the twists and turns of their personality."

Legolas smiled, relaxing. "I wondered if we could find common ground. I knew that I wanted it but I wondered if that was an illusion, some kind of foolish desire from someone infatuated by another different from my own experience. I wanted to know."

"And what did you find out?" Elrond asked, closing the distance between them. He stood close to Legolas, close enough to look into his eyes and feel his will slipping away.

"I found someone who loved me, someone to love," Legolas replied, his breath catching in his throat. He slid his hands up Elrond's arms, stepping into them as they closed around him. "I found a home."

Elrond pulled him into an embrace and felt his heart fill with emotion. The youngster held him, sighing deeply and they stood together quietly. Nearby, sitting on a chair enjoying the solitude, Glorfindel watched.

He considered the message that he had been given, the probability that it was a heated reply to something Thranduil had sent and he made a decision. He would go straight to Mirkwood. He wouldn't meet Thranduil on the road.

He sat and watched as they stood together and when they turned and walked inside, he sighed. The night was still as he watched the sky change from evening to morning stars.

It was quiet in the bedroom, Elrond's room, and as they stood together he considered their moment. He hadn't been with anyone in more years than he could count and now he was with someone who could have walked out of his dreams. Legolas held him, kissing his neck and he felt all of his reservations fall away.

This wasn't the son of his worst enemy. This wasn't his squire, a very young man who was infatuated with him, a person he was responsible for. This was his lover, someone he had waited centuries to find and this one's pleasure was all that counted in his mind.

Legolas was tall, as tall as he was and that was a novelty in and off itself. He had never had a lover this tall, he considered. Nor had he ever had one this young. He sighed and kissed Legolas softly, the youngster almost as hesitant as he was. It was a novel feeling.

"All I wanted the whole time I was gone was this moment and now I feel ..." Legolas began.

Elrond smiled. "You are not alone."

Legolas slipped his arms around Elrond's neck, leaning in for a kiss. "I want you."

Elrond sighed, his pleasure complete. "Come," he said, moving closer to the bed. He paused and stroked Legolas' face with his fingers. Then Elrond reached down and unfastened his shirt, moving it off his shoulders so that it fell to the ground. He sighed again, his fingers tracing a path from Legolas' shoulders, down his chest. It was hard and pale, well muscled from exercise and all he wanted to do was rub his face on the smooth perfection of it.

"That feels so good," Legolas whispered, closing his eyes and letting his head fall backward. His pale throat called to Elrond and he touched it, leaning in to trail kisses along its pale length. "More," he whispered, smoky eyes gazing into Elrond's.

Elrond felt his body surge, need rising in him and he nodded, reaching down and unfastening Legolas' trousers. They slid down, pooling at his feet and with them went his shorts, revealing his firm legs and ass to Elrond's hungry eyes.

He pulled Legolas into his arms, his hands sliding down and gripping firm flesh, the youngster melting into his body as he did. All he wanted was to bury himself in that flesh but he knew that would not come soon. There was much to experience and to learn before such an intimate step and the first time together wasn't the moment for such trust.

"Remove your clothing," Elrond whispered, watching as Legolas hurriedly complied, his fevered hands making short work of his remaining clothing. Elrond chuckled, watching as Legolas hopped out of his boots, a grin forming on his perfect features as he found the humor himself.

He stood naked before Elrond, a chuckle on his lips and then his expression stilled, the fire and desire in Elrond's eyes striking him mute. He stood staring back, the tension between them great and as he did, Elrond began to disrobe.

=0=TBC

c2010


	11. Chapter 11

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Eleven

His eyes never left Elrond's, the demeanor of the great lord so commanding that his will evaporated. Elrond's robes slipped away, falling to the floor and yet his eyes never wavered. Legolas was caught in the heat of the older man's gaze. For a moment Legolas was standing, his breath trapped short in his lungs and then he was flat on his back, lying next to the Lord of Imladris, helpless to resist his will.

Elrond's hand, his fingers themselves, stroked the soft skin at the base of his neck and he felt electrical energy surge through his body, radiating out of the tips of his fingers and toes. The fingers slipped slowly down, tracing a path along his chest, lingering here and there with feather-like touches.

He shifted, the pleasure rising in his body as they continued their inexorable journey southward, pausing on his flat stomach, gently caressing his skin. He closed his eyes, captive to the skill of his lover and as he lay there all that he hoped for was coming to pass.

Elrond looked at the bounty lying before him and felt a terrible possessiveness rising through him. Thranduil's son would be his in ways his father never imagined and he would never give him up, no matter what the consequences. He leaned down, gently flicking his tongue over a dark nipple, relishing the sharp sound of pleasure that issued from Legolas' lips. Strong hands stroked his hair, fingers slipping through the dark tangles and he moved up, finding Legolas' soft lips once more.

He shifted, half lying on the youngster as he kissed him, his leg pressing between Legolas'. The youngster moved, his legs opening and in that moment Elrond gave himself over to their mutual pleasure, pulling Legolas' leg toward him as he sought contact. There would be no conscious thinking now, no rational reflection. There would only be two bodies entwining together and the need between them.

Moving again, he lay himself on top of Legolas, slipping his hand through the thick golden hair of the youngster as his tongue made its own way in all the sweet regions of his mouth. They kissed, Legolas' groans swallowed by Elrond's lips and then he paused, staring down into Legolas' flushed face. The youngster looked at him, a ragged sigh escaping his lips. Strong hands slid up Elrond's back and Legolas raised his legs, gripping Elrond's hips.

Elrond felt his body aching with need and he reached between them, moving slightly to align their bodies together. He waited, watching pleasure drift across Legolas' face. It was exquisite to him and as he watched, Legolas whispered.

"More," he sighed, turning and kissing Elrond's shoulder. "Please."

Elrond leaned down and captured his mouth, thrusting himself against Legolas' body. The youngster groaned, his breath caught in his throat and then Elrond moved again, finding a rhythm between them that satisfied both.

Legolas sighed, slipping his arms around Elrond's back, his fingers gripping smooth muscles as he held on. The pleasure of Elrond's efforts overrode his conscious thoughts and all he could do was hold the older man, drinking in the sensations he created.

Elrond was all that could register in his overheated mind and he raised his legs higher, holding tighter as the rhythm got rougher. Lips kissed him, hands gripped his hair and a strong body surged against him, the friction burning his across his slick belly. It was overpowering and his reality fell farther and farther into sensation.

Sweat trickled into his eyes, running down his face. Sweat gathered on his belly, the sweat of his own body and Elrond's and as the older man drove against him, they slid together, the warmth between them almost more than he could bear.

He cried out, pulsing sensation rising from his groin and as he did Elrond increased his movement, his lips capturing Legolas'. He was trapped in pleasure, ensnared by it and all he wanted was for it to continue forever. But it wasn't to be and when he felt his orgasm coming, he cried out, arching against the older man holding him so tightly.

He felt it roll away, like thunder across the mountains but Elrond wasn't finished. Legolas tightened his grip, his long legs holding on and as Elrond finally finished, groaning loudly in Legolas' ear as he spasmed, he felt exhilaration at long last.

Elrond lay still, fallen into Legolas and as he rested, strong hands stroked his hair. He sighed raggedly, the heat of his skin matched by the heat of Legolas' body. He didn't want to move. He wanted to lie where he was wrapped in Legolas' arms and legs, sheltered from the complications and loneliness of his country's responsibilities.

"I love you," a soft voice said.

Elrond smiled, raising his head, looking into soft blue eyes that looked back with adoration. "I love you, Melme."

Legolas smiled, rolling with his lover as Elrond moved off. They entwined together, Elrond's hands brushing damp blond hair back from Legolas' face. He sighed deeply, contented in a way he couldn't have imagined. He had no idea how arid his life had been before this moment, the loneliness that had been his lot unknown in its magnitude until now.

He kissed Legolas' forehead, his hand tracing small circles on the youngster's shoulder. He was content. The room was silent a moment and then Legolas rose up, staring at him.

"May I be with you? Must I sleep alone now?"

Elrond considered his request and sighed. "No. But no one must know. This is a breach of unimaginable magnitude, Legolas. No one must know what has happened between us."

He nodded, sighing. "Because I am your squire."

"Yes," Elrond replied, sighing against Legolas' lips as he leaned down to kiss him. "You are."

He pulled the youngster against him, holding him tightly. If anyone were to know of this moment, he considered, the consequences to all concerned would be enormous.

The night was silent as they lay together. The stars were long fading in the sky before either found sleep.

He left early, his guard riding along with him. They passed signs of Thranduil's host, the telltale markings of an army on the march. He hurried along, turning toward Mirkwood and the one he sought. It would take days but when he arrived, he was welcomed into the household, such was his reputation among his own kind.

She greeted him, hugging him tightly.

"Glorfindel, what brings you here to our house?" she asked, breathless for news on her son. "Is Legolas all right?"

"He is well, Lady," Glorfindel replied. "I bring news of his good health and beg of you a favor beneficial to us both."

She nodded and turned, the two walking to a sitting room where they talked for three hours. When they finished, Glorfindel left, message tube in hand and continued his journey to Lothlorien.

The days passed, news coming from abroad about orc activity. It appeared to center along the border lands of Lothlorien and Mirkwood. The idea of a conflagration was growing and when Celeborn asked for a Council at Rivendell, they threw themselves into preparations with their usual efficiency.

Horsemen arrived from all around, delegates from Lothlorien, Mirkwood and the realms of Men. Into the great gate of Rivendell they rode, entering the house to be greeted by its master. Standing by his side, working with great care, Legolas watched as the gathering came together.

There was an excitement in the air, people arriving whom he had only heard of in tale and song and when the day arrived for his father to come, he stood in the courtyard waiting. Horsemen approached and entered, dismounting together, their eyes turned toward the beauty of the buildings surrounding them.

Legolas searched them for his father, expecting him. He wasn't in the group. Galdor was there as ambassador for their kingdom and he walked toward Legolas, a smile on his face.

"Are you here to take my horse or are you the master's greeter?"

Legolas bit back his retort and stared at him, considering what he should say. Then he shrugged. "I was expecting Father. I guess I'll have to settle for you."

Galdor snorted in spite of himself and gazed around him. "Rather nice for wood I should say."

"This is a beautiful place," Legolas said in spite of himself. "You will find it so."

He turned and walked inside, his bemused brother following along with his companions. Inside, talking to several other arrivals, Elrond stood. Galdor looked at him, studying the figure that had almost mythical status among their people. He moved forward, passing Legolas who stood respectfully and joined the group. They turned and looked at him, Elrond's gaze meeting Galdor's easily.

"Lord Elrond," Galdor said.

Elrond's gaze met his and he nodded. "You are the representative from Mirkwood I take it. Galdor, I believe."

"Prince Galdor, representative of the Kingdom of Mirkwood." He gave a tiny bow, almost with regret and he turned, gazing at his brother. "I would ask your leave to speak to your squire. It has been a long time since we confided in each other."

Elrond glanced at Legolas, taken by the lack of expression on that normally expressive face and nodded. "I would be amiss in my regard for your family and my squire to deny such a request. Legolas, you may attend to your brother."

He nodded and moved with his brother, who then turned and followed as a young lady showed them the way to their rooms. Legolas walked up the stairs, watching as Galdor looked around. They passed the room where Narsil lay in fragments, the great libraries and other public rooms of the house. Walking down a corridor, she showed them where they would stay and left them, Legolas entering with his brother.

It was a beautiful room, like all the others of the house and his brother admired it, turning and smiling at his brother. "You were right when you said it was beautiful."

The others with Galdor found chairs or walked to the balcony, staring out at the mountains on the other side of the river. It was quiet for a moment and then Galdor gestured Legolas to follow. They walked to a corner of the balcony that was unclaimed. He stared at his brother, considering his words.

"The meeting tomorrow is important to our kingdom. Father expects that our people will play a great role in the coming battles against the orcs. I ask that you tell me what you know of Lord Elrond's mind in this matter."

Legolas considered his words and shrugged. "I know not. He doesn't confide affairs of state in me. I am but his squire."

Galdor smirked. "You have access to his person. You have ears. Surely you have heard private conversations between the lord and his advisers."

"I haven't. I take care of his horses and his rooms. I fetch and carry and do his bidding. I am not privy to his great conversations, Galdor."

The older man considered his words. "You aren't privy or you aren't telling?"

Legolas felt a flash of color warm his cheeks and anger flared in his eyes. "Do you believe that I would undermine our country? Do you believe that I don't love my father?"

Galdor considered his reaction and shrugged. "I believe you are bewitched by this place. I believe that Elrond has cast a spell upon you. You are not truthful with me, Legolas."

"In what subject?" Legolas asked, his own emotion rising.

"You have knowledge but you keep it from me, your own brother. You would put the interests of Imladris ahead of Mirkwood."

Legolas glared at him, his rage rising. "You speak without proofs. Your hatred of Lord Elrond ill serves our country, Galdor."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. What does your feelings mean for our people, Legolas? What are you keeping from me that can make a difference for our country?"

Legolas stared at him, his expression hard and cold. "Nothing," he lied and then he turned and walked out, leaving his brother and his company alone.

Ellan stepped forward, leaning against the railing beside Galdor. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked.

Galdor smirked, glancing at the tall quiet man beside him. "I don't know," he said, musing on the enigma of his youngest brother. "I am not sure."

Dinner was sounded and all arrived, sitting about the table according to rank. Elrond sat in his chair at the head of the table, elevated above all in rank. Men sat side by side, the kings and chieftains of far off places. Elves sat in groups, golden and dark-haired, talking together with few mixing. The few that did were of the elder variety, Glorfindel, Haldir of Lorien and Ellan of Mirkwood of one example.

Legolas stood beside Elrond's chair, attending to his lord as was his duty. He didn't look in his brother's direction even as he felt his brother's eyes upon him. He sighed internally and willed himself to out wait the day.

Elrond noted his nervousness and chalked it up to the moment. Their privacy might be impaired by Galdor's presence, he considered. Perhaps it would be best to be separate until the meeting was over and all left for their separate lands.

Dinner finished and men and women rose, walking past the courtyard to the great rolling lawn behind the house. Several of the younger men had decided to match skills, testing the honor of their countries by shooting. Legolas felt a hand on his arm and turned, gazing into Galdor's eyes.

"Fetch your bow and arrows, Legolas. You will be shooting for Mirkwood this day."

Legolas sighed and turned, walking through the house to his room. He entered, the barely visited place seemingly destitute to him and found his weapons. He returned to the dining room, finding it empty and continued out, noting the array of personages settling for the shooting.

Elrond had commanded that targets be set, the colorful little stakes being driven into the great expanse of lawn that stretched out before them. They were barely visible and far away, many of them, making the shooting to come difficult at best.

Galdor motioned him over and he went, shifting on his quiver. "You will be our champion. I don't believe that there are any here who can best you. Make your shots well, Legolas. Our country's honor is at stake."

Legolas nodded and turned, noting great archers gathering for their turn. He looked down the course, noting the farthest stave bearing red. He calculated the distance and checked the wind, determining that with skill and silence he would make the shot with care.

Behind him, watching from a seat of honor, Elrond of Rivendell sat enraptured.

=0=TBC

c2010


	12. Chapter 12

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Twelve

A cheer rose up as the arrow landed near to the stave that marked the farthest point. The shooter, a man from the Dale smiled and mock bowed, gathering the compliments of the crowd to himself.

Legolas watched, noting many fine shots and considered his own. He was probably the finest archer there, at least among the tested ones and he had little worry about his own shooting. Besides, he had someone besides his father to shoot for. Elrond had never seen him before and he looked forward to demonstrating his skill for his lover.

Elrond sat in his chair, the older members of the gathering sitting with him and he applauded at the best shots along with the others. When there was a lull in the movement before him, his eyes strayed to Legolas and he watched the lanky youngster as he awaited his turn. He sighed, the pleasure of the moment filling him with joy, and when Glorfindel kicked his ankle, he nearly jerked.

He glanced at his friend and then straightened in his seat, discomforted both by Glorfindel's acknowledgment of his gawking and his own lack of discretion. He cast a glance at Galdor, the Elf's stern gaze upon him and he suppressed a sigh, determined not to let his thoughts wander again.

Legolas stepped up, affixing an arrow and the crowd grew silent, watching as he fixed his eye on the farthest marker beyond. After a second he let go of his string and the arrow flew away, finding its mark as swiftly. The crowd gasped and a young boy ran out, checking the shot against the red stave. They were wedged together, fixed into the ground and a cheer rang up when he ran back and said so.

Legolas smiled and turned, glancing at Elrond, who sat clapping, leaning toward Glorfindel as he whispered. Feeling slightly chagrined at the lack of full attentiveness at his lover, he turned and caught Galdor's glance, remembering right away why it was so.

He sighed and waited, taking his shots and when he had fired four times, was declared the best shot of the match. As he turned and walked back from collecting his arrows, he noted that a number of men and Elves were gathered around Elrond. The look on Elrond's face was noncommittal but he could tell that the lord was not pleased. Hurrying up, he got in on the end of the conversation which basically was a challenge to him.

"I would wager that the Lords of the First Age are no match for those of this one. I would challenge them to a contest of their own choice, swords, bows or even a more basic physical art."

Galdor stood before Elrond, a slight smile on his face. Elrond stared at him as did Glorfindel, Haldir, Ellan, and Cirdan. All of them were being called out and he considered what it would take to make Galdor crawl on his belly.

Legolas watched, his heart pounding as everyone waited for Elrond's response. Finally, after a moment of tension, Elrond rose and unfastened his robe. Handing it to a younger Elf standing behind him, he motioned to Legolas. He walked over and stood, looking at him with concern.

"I would like your bow, Legolas," Elrond said, holding out his hand. Legolas handed it over and Elrond took it, testing its tensile strength against his own. Satisfied, he pulled three arrows from the quiver on Legolas' back, walking toward the firing line and placing two of them on the ground.

Legolas watched him, his heart in his throat. Elrond was a renowned warrior, his story sung in song by all kindreds but Legolas has not seen him shoot in all the days that he had been here. He had no idea how much skilled the man was in the context of his life here. It was with a pounding heart that he watched Elrond carefully affix an arrow.

It was silent, as silent as ever it could be as Elrond took aim, Glorfindel standing beside him, the other two arrows in his hand. He watched as his friend, a man as a son to him take careful aim, the honor of the First Age completely in his hands.

Breath was held by most present as Elrond let go and the arrow flew high into the sky. A careful arc downward placed it very, very close to the red stave and exhales were audible as Elrond lowered his bow. Cheers went up and Legolas blinked back tears, so great was his relief at the skill his lover so clearly still possessed. Glorfindel laughed out loud, mock bowing to Elrond, who laughed as well.

Elrond sighed, yearning to look at Legolas but daring not to. His own relief at the muscle memory of a lifetime of practical skill was enormous but he disguised it with mock cheer. He shot two more arrows, each one landing as perfectly as the other and when he finished, he handed the bow off to Glorfindel.

One by one, the giants of the First Age fired, landing their arrows with a precision that belied their age. Haldir of Lorien, Ellan of Mirkwood, Cirdan and Glorfindel, they put their marks and made their point and when it was over, good cheer and respectful admiration was the order of the day.

Galdor watched his brother, noting the tension on his face followed by relief and exhilaration. It was clear that he was under the influence of the Lord of the House and he wondered what it would mean for the future of Mirkwood. The shooting broke up, people moving to relax on the terraces and in the great common rooms of the last homely house.

Elrond donned his robe and followed his contemporaries inside, all the while taking the congratulations of the crowd. Into the house they went and Legolas became busy pouring wine and listening to the tales of older times as the elder among them began to recite them.

Laughter and conversation, singing and games of chance carried them on into the night and when the crowds began to break up it was with amity and good cheer. Legolas worked with other youngsters, putting the rooms and terraces in good order and by the time he was ready to retire, he was pleasantly tired.

Climbing the stairs, he entered his room, the door closing behind him. He sighed and looked around, the emptiness resounding. Walking to his bed he sat and sighed again, wishing he were elsewhere. As he did, a tapping on his window caught his eye and he turned, rising and walking over. Pulling it open, he almost cried out in surprise, covering his mouth just in time.

Elrond crouched on the ledge, gesturing Legolas to move back. He did and Elrond slipped inside, closing the window behind him. He turned and grinned at Legolas' profound incredulity. He pulled him into his arms and kissed him soundly.

"For the life of me, Melme, I have done some odd things since you came into my life and I have to say that I regret none of them."

Legolas smiled and hugged him tightly. "I love you. You made me so proud of you with your bow. I am so proud of you!"

Elrond chuckled, hugging Legolas back as tightly. "I surprised myself but some things are like falling off a horse I wager."

"You showed them, all of them. You and the others. I was proud that moment when you showed them the majesty of the First Age."

Elrond kissed him, thoroughly and well, sighing with pleasure against Legolas' soft lips. "You make me feel things. You make me willing to make a fool of myself. I can not believe that I crawled through a window for you, Melme."

Legolas smiled, sighing with pleasure. "Of course you would. You cannot do anything but surprise me with your greatness."

Elrond laughed, shaking his head. "Climbing through a lover's window in the middle of the night would hardly constitute greatness. I would think that it would generate other thoughts in the minds of observers."

"They would not know my happiness," Legolas said softly, his eyes filled with love. "My happiness is so great I cannot imagine a life without the warmth of it."

Elrond hugged him tightly, holding him close as they stood in the darkness together. Then a sound was heard in the hallway and they both froze in place. Legolas looked around and Elrond moved, slipping behind a screen in the corner of the room. The door handle waggled just as he slipped from view and Legolas turned just as the door opened.

Galdor stood there, as did Ellan and they both came inside, shutting the door behind him. He turned and looked to Legolas, staring at him closely.

"This afternoon, the contest outside, you were obviously in favor of Elrond."

"I honor the elders of our people," Legolas countered, his back rising. "It is the respectful thing to do for those who have earned it."

"Is that all you do, Legolas?" Galdor asked, moving closer. "Is respect all you give to Elrond?"

Legolas stared at him, disgust on his face. "What do you want, Galdor?"

"I want to know what is on the mind of Lord Elrond. I want to know what the outcome of the meeting tomorrow will be. Will it favor Mirkwood or not?"

"Everyone has to help with the threat," Legolas countered. "No one kingdom can do it all alone."

"But Mirkwood must be first in honor," Galdor replied, exasperation in his voice.

"Mirkwood will win its honor. It can't be given."

Galdor looked around, noting the comfort of his room. "You have fine surroundings. Much like home. I have always believed you to be a spoiled prat, Legolas. I cannot stand that you are a traitor to your own people."

Legolas glared at him, moving closer with clenched fists. "I am no traitor. Take it back."

Galdor stared at him, shaking his head. "I take nothing back. I will make sure that when I return to Mirkwood that Father knows how you are. You have been influenced for ill, Legolas, and it's time you came home for good."

He turned and walked out, the others following and the door shut tight behind him. Legolas stood a moment and then hurried to the door, turning the antique lock in its latch. When he turned back, Elrond was there and he flung his arms around his lover's neck with deep emotion.

They stood together, Elrond holding his lover and in his heart burned a fire that would never go out. He wanted to do things, terrible things. He hadn't felt this way in many years, not since that day where it all fell apart, the day when Isildur took the ring and rode away.

Tomorrow the meeting would come and he would have to be impartial, directing the decision to a solution best fit for all. Mirkwood would play for a strong role and the others would argue about what was right. In the end, he imagined it would replay an older time when the forces of their people divided to their peril at Mt. Doom.

The bell rang once to summon people to the meeting and they filed in, sitting in groups together around the outdoor chamber where such were held. Sitting removed from all on a raised dais, empty chairs on each side of him filled normally by his sons but now by Cirdan and Glorfindel, Elrond stood and called the gathering to order.

"Friends and strangers from far away lands, we gather together to discuss what to do about a rising threat in the east. Orcs are massing in hitherto unknown numbers and we have to make decisions about meeting this peril.

"From the Dale and Gondor," he said, nodding to men who had traveled far, "from Mirkwood, the Lorien Wood, the Havens and beyond, we have come together to defend our countries."

Around the room, standing and listening, were the liege men of many leaders. Legolas stood near to the Mirkwood delegation, his eyes fixed on Elrond. He was in his power, his wisdom and strength magnetic and Legolas couldn't take his eyes off of him.

He stood before them, his robes belying the physical strength that Legolas knew he possessed. The fillet of Mithral that adorned his head glinted in the bright light of the sun. He was beautiful to Legolas' eyes.

Galdor sat with his counselors and they listened as what was known was spoken by all around the circle. Even those that were the least directly affected were aware that unchecked the peril could spread. It was a cancer in their midst, this flowering of evil and they talked together how it might be plucked for good.

Legolas listened, watching as the conversation played around the circle and when it came time to propose a solution, his brother stood. He was handsome, immaculately dressed and poised. He also had a hard look around his eyes that belied some of his beauty.

"I am Prince Galdor of Mirkwood, Emissary from for my father, King Thranduil. It is his wishes that Mirkwood be given pride of place in the raising of an army and that half of the captains deployed in the midst of it be from our kingdom."

A murmur sprung up, dissent already rearing itself in their midst and he raised his hand to quell it.

"Our people are prepared to raise a host that will be more than sufficient for the bounty call. But we wish a voice in the deployment and field commands for the sacrifice we are prepared to make."

Elrond sighed inwardly, glancing at Cirdan as he did. The other man sighed and nodded slightly as Elrond rose once more. "The King of the Great Wood is a generous man. We are much pleased with his offer. But the disposition of the host among the field commanders is a prerogative left to those that supply soldiers. The ultimate commander of the army is voted among the Council, chosen from those most able to lead it. King Thranduil is one name among many and as much as we welcome whole-heartedly his generous offer, we hold to tradition for the leadership of our army."

Cirdan nodded, as did Glorfindel. The fair haired Elf rose and moved toward Galdor, pausing near to him and to one side of the round stone table that graced the meeting place. "Our leadership is meted out when the Ard Ri is vacant among those with the most experience among us. For that to be forsaken is to risk disaster for our enterprise. I would be sure that the great King of the Green Wood would remember that and honor it as a tradition of our peoples."

"My father remembers much," Galdor said, his cold eyes falling upon Elrond. "He remembers his father's blood pouring from his many wounds. He remembers the arrogance of the Ard Ri of your people, the arrogance of Gil-galad as he marched toward the mountain of the demon."

Elrond felt the sting against his honor and stepped forward, Glorfindel moving between them automatically.

"I find it remarkable, whelp, that you would speak of times you know not and men you never knew and judge them. Your grandfather was an impetuous man and his decision made his life end on his own. We could not save him and he refused to be saved. Your impertinence does your kingdom little good."

Galdor glared at Elrond, the sting of his words rising the blood in him. "You are an impediment to the fortunes of my country and your insult to me will not go unpunished."

"What do you propose? A duel?" Elrond asked, his voice cool and controlled.

"It would appear appropriate but I would beg off," Galdor said, his voice dripping acid. "Woe be for me to cause the tears of my brother to fall."

The room was hushed and Glorfindel turned, attempting to placate the pale and furious man behind him. Before he could, Elrond stepped around him and hit Galdor on the jaw with all of his considerable strength. He fell to the floor, landing with a jarring thud and as his men rose to turn on Elrond, bows filled with arrows and swords were pulled. It was still for a moment and then Galdor rose, rubbing his jaw. Before he could speak, Cirdan rose and walked over, standing between all of them, the seething Lord of Imladris and the murderous Prince of Mirkwood.

"This is the wrong way," he said quietly. "This is not our way. If we wish to defeat the shadow that threatens us all we must be beyond petty things. You had no right to speak to Lord Elrond this way."

Galdor almost spoke but the words didn't come. He took a deep cleansing breath. "I am here to speak for my people."

"Then you must but you have no right to impugn anyone in the doing of that," Cirdan replied. "We are here to fight orcs, not each other. In this place we will meet in peaceful circumstances. You will save your blood lust for the field of honor. You have disgraced your house and you must make amends."

Cirdan was unbending, his dark gaze fixed squarely upon the Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas stared, his eyes dividing their time between Elrond, Cirdan and his brother. He could see the struggle, the rage that yearned to break free of the bind he was in and then he calmed, his dark eyes filled with hatred. "I concede to your impeccable wisdom, Lord Cirdan."

No one moved, Cirdan watching as the younger man sat down again and then they all let out the breath they were holding, Legolas included. Elrond stood a moment and then turned and sat down himself, the anger in his eyes remaining even as the rage on his face faded away.

For two more hours they would talk and the plans of all would be made. Each host would have their part of land to protect, each dovetailing neatly into the other. They would step out together, Cirdan's forces and those of the coastal kingdoms falling under the command of Rivendell. Lothlorien would detail their own command and they would all work together. It was as it should be even though Mirkwood reserved the right to leave at their discretion.

Elrond walked to the dining room that night, his eyes searching for Legolas. The meeting had drained him and his actions had maddened him. A controlled reasonable man, he hated unnecessary violence. He dreaded what it would mean to Legolas, his actions in the chamber.

Looking around, walking in with his fellow delegates, he searched the crowd for his lover.

=0=TBC

c2010


	13. Chapter 13

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Thirteen

It was late when the last guest settled and he could leave for his own chambers. Walking down the hallway, he paused and continued on, not daring to see if Legolas was there in his room. Moving on, he entered the rooms that had been his for many centuries, stopping in the middle of the dark space that was his alone. He considered the long night ahead of him.

He was still angry, unsettled by the comments made by Galdor. He had insulted Elrond and brought into thoughts of others, Legolas. He had insinuated that they were lovers, or more to the point, he was exploiting the younger man because that is what it would appear to be, exploitation.

It boiled in him, the urge to fight and as he moved toward his bedroom, images of violence flared in his mind. He shoved them away as he pulled off his outer garment, tossing it on a chair as he began to disrobe.

As he did, he heard a tapping on his window. Pausing, not daring to hope, he turned and walked toward it, watching as it opened and a figure slipped inside. He smiled and stepped forward, freezing as he recognized the face before him.

Ellan of Mirkwood stood silently, noting the icy expression that formed immediately on the others face.

"What means you to invade my privacy in this manner?" Elrond asked, frost in his tone.

Ellan sighed and moved forward, shaking his head and bowing slightly. "Forgive me, my Lord. I beg your indulgence.

"You do?" Elrond replied, his voice icy. "Tell me what brings you here and then leave before I throw you out."

Ellan sighed and shook his head. "You do me an injustice, my Lord. We are of the same generation and much is common in our experiences. I am not here as your enemy. I am here as a comrade of older times."

Elrond studied him, noting nothing perilous from his spirit reaching him. He relaxed slightly. "What brings you here, Ellan?"

He sighed and stared at Elrond, a pained expression in his eyes. "Old times. The shared love of a great king's memory. I didn't wish for you to think ill of me because of the foolishness of the son of the man whom I serve."

"You are not responsible for Galdor," Elrond said, gesturing him to sit. They both did and Elrond waited, noting the intensity of the Elf's demeanor.

"I am not," he agreed, "but I love the house of the king of Mirkwood. His Lady is of good heart and she loves her youngest son dearly. She misses him and gives me this letter to give to him."

He reached into his shirt and pulled a message tube, handing it to Elrond.

"Why give this to me? Legolas is about. He would be gladdened by tidings from his mother."

"I would," he said, "but I wished to make good between us what I felt had been broken." He sighed. "There are not so many among us that remember older times. I cannot damage what was good from then for the sake of an impetuous young fool."

Elrond smiled and nodded. "It is not broken. I will ensure that this reaches the one intended at the first possible moment."

Ellan smiled and rose, bowing slightly. "Then you gladden my heart. I will be leaving in the morrow for the land of my King. I hope that you know there are those in Mirkwood that hold warm thoughts for the Prince of Rivendell."

Elrond smiled and extended his arm, the two locking hands in the warrior's embrace. "That makes my heart glad as well, Ellan. I am very pleased that all is good between us."

Ellan smiled and hesitated, turning slightly back from the window beyond. He considered his words and sighed. "You have affection for the young Prince. That is evident even though you do your best not to show it. I find that goodly. I know that the household, with the possible exception of my Queen will not. I suggest caution in your dealings and public appearances. It is known that news reaches us and causes disquiet in the family. I would hate to see discord arise between our two kingdoms over something as delicate as the heart."

Elrond sighed and nodded, gratitude in his eyes. He watched as his comrade climbed out the window and was gone as silently as a cat. He walked to it, staring at the stars and then he looked at the message in his hand. He knew that Legolas would be gladdened to hear from his mother, so dear to him was she. But he didn't dare take it to him, fearing not only being seen but the reception he might receive from his lover.

Turning and placing it on the table beside his bed, he finished his toilet and retired to the bed. It felt cold and empty and he lay awake all night, missing the one he deemed so necessary that he could not rest without him.

In the morning the guests began to depart to begin the difficult and time-consuming task of raising and outfitting armies. Some of the kingdoms were well underway, Mirkwood in particular and others had their jobs to do.

Haldir of Lorien, Ellan of Mirkwood and Cirdan stood together, trading jokes with Glorfindel. Breakfast had been served and all were leaving, many traveling together until they had to part their given ways.

Men had left, most of them traveling together and when the Prince of Mirkwood stepped out, he did so crisply, his silent younger brother in tow. He took Legolas to one side, talking to him intensely, the youngster listening without expression as he did. When he was through, he walked to his horse and mounted, his party joining him.

Galdor stared at the house, finding the one he sought on a balcony far away. He stared at him, hating Elrond with a cold and passionate fury. Then he turned and without a word, led his party away. Glorfindel watched and then waved as Cirdan and Haldir rode out, their parties joining them and soon it was only the two of them in the courtyard.

Glorfindel turned to Legolas, noting the morose expression on his face and sighed. Walking toward him, he paused, searching the youngster for signs of life.

"You look terrible. What did he say to you to suck the marrow out of your bones?"

Legolas shrugged, catching himself. He turned and looked at Glorfindel, the older Elf's kind eyes scrutinizing him closely. "He gave me a sound hearing. I am to watch my step with the Lord of this house, keep my eyes open for any sign of betrayal and get ready to leave when he gets home."

Glorfindel sighed and squeezed Legolas' arm. "Your brother is a great fool."

Legolas smiled slightly. "I told him so. Inside my head. I was hoping he would notice but he didn't."

"His head is carved of stone," Glorfindel said, grinning back. "Have you attended to your Lord this morning?"

Legolas sighed and shook his head, staring at his feet sadly.

"Then go you to do this thing. The squire of a great Lord is never idle."

Legolas nodded and walked past the older Elf, entering the house he had come to think of as home. It was a long slow climb of the stairs to the long and winding corridor that led to the inner chambers that belonged to Lord Elrond alone. He stood at the door, hesitating for a moment and then he opened it, stepping inside nervously.

Elrond was standing by the door to the balcony, watching Legolas as he entered. He walked to the middle of the room, wringing his hands for a moment before standing awkwardly before his master.

"Why are you so nervous, Legolas?" Elrond asked, moving closer. "It is I who should be nervous, not you."

"You, my Lord?" Legolas asked with surprise. "It is I who am ashamed. My brother brought dishonor to our House. He insulted you in the chamber, in front of your guests ... he made me squirm."

"I hit him." Elrond noted a slight sigh from the lips he yearned for and he stepped closer, uncertain what to make of the reception he was being given. He expected anger and hurt, perhaps recrimination. He didn't expect this and so he stood uncertain, wanting to gather the youngster up but afraid to do so.

Fierce blue eyes met Elrond's and he blinked, stepping back. Legolas clenched his fists and stepped forward, anger on his face.

"You had every right to," he said, his voice filled with rage. "He had no right speaking to you that way. You are the Lord of this valley, a king of your own people and someone who has earned the right to have the respect of others. He didn't have the right to speak to you that way!"

Elrond stood a moment, blinking. Then he sighed and held out his arms, the youngster moving swiftly into them. He hugged Legolas, the youngster laying his head on Elrond's shoulder. He smiled and closed his eyes in pleasure, the sweetness of that gesture becoming precious to him. He sighed. "You never cease to surprise me. I feared that I had damaged what is growing between us by my rash actions yesterday. I searched for you and yearned for you all night long."

"And I, you," Legolas replied, sighing piteously. "I was so sorry when he spoke. It made a mockery of all that I feel about you. I love you. I know that is true. For him to speak of it like it was a tarnished thing made me weak with sorrow."

"You were nowhere to be found," Elrond said. "I looked for you as best I could."

Legolas was silent a moment and then he looked into Elrond's eyes, his own filled with emotion. "I was with you."

Elrond considered his words. "I could not find you."

"Outside your window." Legolas turned and pointed to a large tree just outside the window of Elrond's room. "I was there. I sat in the tree all night and watched you. I couldn't bear to not be with you. But I was afraid that someone would find out and cause trouble for you."

Elrond sighed, his heart melting with emotion. "I didn't see you."

"I was there," Legolas said, hugging Elrond's neck. "I was there all night."

Elrond gathered the youngster to him, the events of the past days washed away. He was clear with the one he loved the most and all the rest was for other hours. This one was for Legolas. He kissed him, holding him tightly and they moved to the bed, lying down side-by-side. Legolas faced his lover, his hands stroking Elrond's hair.

He moved closer, kissing Elrond softly and then he slipped into his arms, laying his head on his lover's chest. A strong heart was beating and it comforted Legolas. The night had been lonely, the distance between them as mighty as the river beyond. Yet he stayed where he was, praying that Elrond would forgive him his brother's arrogance.

"You were worried," Legolas ventured, sighing as strong hands stroked his hair.

"Only about you," Elrond replied, sighing as the youngster shifted his leg over Elrond's. "I was sure you would be angry."

"Then you don't know me," Legolas said, sighing. He leaned up, staring down into Elrond's face. "I give my heart to you. It's all I have. There is nothing more than that for me to give to you."

"That is more than you can know, Green Leaf," Elrond whispered. "I have been so cold for so long, all I have is your warmth to make me feel alive again."

Legolas stared at him, the nakedness of his feelings clear on his own face and then he rolled over, pulling the older man onto his body. Elrond moved and covered Legolas, the sensations of pure emotion flowing through him like a breeze over the ocean. He wanted nothing more than this and as he touched Legolas, his hand sliding inside the youngster's shirt, he knew that he wished never to hear such uncertainty in his lover's voice again.

"You are a man of the world," Legolas whispered, his hands stroking the long tassels of black hair that spilled over Elrond's shoulders. "I want to know what you know, to see things as you have seen them. It came clear to me at the meeting the difference between us. I have no knowledge of the world beyond the woods of my father. I want to know more, my Lord. I want you to show me."

Elrond sighed and nuzzled Legolas' neck, the words filing away in his mind for his dreams. He kissed the youngster, imparting as much love as he could manage. "You are precious to me, Legolas. Please never forget that. No matter what, remember what you mean to me."

Legolas sighed, sliding his hands up Elrond's back. "I want you," he whispered, his eyes closing in his need. "Please, my Lord."

Elrond fell away inside the seduction of the words Legolas whispered and as they moved on the bed, forces beyond the walls of his fortress home were making their way into the world.

***On the trail home ...

They heard the calls and called back, watching as a number of riders hove into sight. They dismounted, greetings exchanged and then gathered around the fire, building it higher. Elladan and Elrohir, themselves heading for home with companions after the hunt, were glad to see the riders from Mirkwood and Lorien as they paused in the evening to take rest with them.

Haldir dismounted, smiling at the two and pulled off a pack, tossing it on the ground. "Food and drink would be good about now. My hindquarters could use a rest from the trail."

Others brought forth food, dividing it among the many and soon the fire was blazing and much merriment flowed. Galdor and Ellan sat together, the Prince's face a sullen display. Ellan watched him with a wary eye, noting his gaze was fixed on the twin sons of Elrond.

They talked of the trail ahead, the places they had explored, their exploits in hunting orcs of good reputation among the men. Much sign was made and few sightings as well and so they had time yet as only scouting parties appeared to be among them.

The fire was burning low when Elrohir walked into the bushes to relieve himself before turning in. As he did, he heard a voice speaking.

"Your aim is good. Tell me, Prince of Rivendell ... how be you with a bow?"

Elrohir cocked his head toward the speaker and finished his business, settling his clothing as he turned. "I have had no complaints with either bow or cock," he said, recognizing the figure before him.

"I'm sure you haven't," Galdor said, dropping small rocks onto the ground as he leaned against a tree. "But then from what I hear, Rivendell Princes are great whores."

Elrohir felt fire flash through him but he gathered it, channeling it into his control. His father, despairing of his tendency to fight at the drop of a hat loomed in his mind and he struggled to remember his lessons.

"Who would tell you that? Your mother?" Elrohir asked, just before the prince launched himself.

They collided and fell to the ground, rolling over and over as they struggled together. Elrohir caught Galdor's head in a forearm lock, wrapping his leg around Galdor's torso. Hanging on, squeezing the life out of him, they rolled in the dirt.

Rushing up, called by the commotion, members of the party hurried in. Elladan grabbed his brother, pulling him off as Ellan and others gripped Galdor. They lunged again and were mercifully restrained, pulled apart from each other.

Ellan stepped between them, glaring at both. "Enough."

For a moment there was silence and then Galdor shrugged off the hands that held him. "You are not my master, Ellan. You forget your place."

"I don't forget, Galdor. I am serve your father. You have no power over me. This is over. I would think one blow from a member of this family would be enough to show you the error of your ways."

Snickers rose up and he turned on them, his face filled with fury. He turned again to Ellan, glaring at him with anger. "I will not long forget this."

Ellan stood silently, watching as he stormed back to the fire. Then he turned and looked at Elrohir. Shaking his head, he sighed. "You are such the mirror image of your father."

Elrohir smiled. "You are in trouble with the loud-mouthed prince."

"I serve his parents. He doesn't bother me," Ellan said, smiling.

"If he does, you have a home in Imladris," Elladan said, brushing off his brother's shirt.

"That is good to know," Ellan said, turning and grinning at Haldir. "Nothing like plan number two."

He snickered and they all turned, walking back to the fire but the twins. They watched the others go and then turned to each other.

"What mischief happened at home while we were gone?" Elladan asked, smiling.

Elrohir smiled and shrugged. "I ceased to be surprise anymore."

With that, they turned and walked back to the campsite to sleep.

=0=TBC

c2010


	14. Chapter 14

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Fourteen

It was quiet in the room, the two lying entwined together. Elrond was content, his worries allayed a bit as he caressed Legolas' strong arm, flung across his chest in relaxation. They had made love, frantically seeking the sense of peace that they felt when they were together. It was restored, he thought. The feelings of completeness were back in his heart and he lay on the bed once more at peace.

"You are very skilled in making me feel delighted," Legolas whispered, rubbing his cheek against Elrond's chest.

Elrond smiled and chuckled softly. "I have a wonderful canvas upon which to paint."

Legolas smiled, content to lay where he was for hours on end and then he raised his head, staring into his Lord's loving eyes. He looked at Elrond, considering his age as he did and shook his head, laying it back on its cushion of warm damp muscles.

Elrond stared at him for a moment, perplexed, and then took a handful of golden hair, tugging gently until he saw blue eyes again.

"What?" he asked, a slight smile on his lips.

Legolas smiled and sighed. "You are more years older than me than any of the trees in the yard outside but I don't feel it when I'm with you."

Elrond smiled and released his grip, the youngster lying back down again. He stroked soft hair, long and tangled down Legolas' back, his fingers moving almost of their own accord toward it. He felt satiated, filled with a sense of joy that he knew would be fleeting over the next few months.

"This is nice," Legolas murmured. "I wish it wouldn't end."

"All good things end, or so someone says." He was quiet a moment. "I wonder who 'they' are."

Legolas chuckled, raising his head. He moved up and kissed Elrond, lingering against the soft warmth that made him so happy. Elrond gripped him, holding him in place as he moved to settle more fully on his body. Legolas sat up, settling gently on Elrond. He peered down, his eyes filled with mirth.

Elrond stared at Legolas, reaching up and sliding his fingers down the smooth expanse of his pale chest. Legolas sighed and leaned down, kissing him softly, his golden hair falling around his face. He sat back up, unbraiding his hair, both back and sides and he shook his head, a soft curtain of silk falling over his eyes.

Elrond smiled and brushed it back, soft blue eyes staring at him without embarrassment. "You are beautiful."

Legolas smiled. "I think so of you."

He leaned down and captured Elrond's mouth, sighing as he felt strong hands move across his back. They slid down, kneading his muscles as they moved. He sat back up, staring down at his lover and felt as if all things were possible at that moment.

"You look good there," Elrond said playfully. "The view is much improved from here."

Legolas laughed, a sound that warmed Elrond's heart and stared at him, his face filled with happiness. "What may I do for you, my Lord?" he asked. "I am after all your squire and must attend to you in all matters of health and welfare."

Elrond smiled, shaking his head. "I can think of many things, some of which you are not ready for."

"Such as?" Legolas asked, his face becoming serious with his curiosity.

"There are many ways for us to share our bodies, Green Leaf. Some of them take a while to learn. Those pleasures taken too soon may cause dismay."

"You would never hurt me," Legolas said, staring at him with certainty. "This I know."

"I would never do that," Elrond agreed, sliding his hands along Legolas' taut thighs. "But I know in the throes of my passion for you that I could injure you."

"How so?" Legolas asked, pressing the issue even as he shifted on Elrond's body. He watched with satisfaction sensual pleasure flash across his lover's face.

Elrond sighed and shifted slightly, the need rising in him for more of this one. "You have had lovers?" He didn't want to know but he did.

"There were some."

"You have been with them?" Elrond prodded, a smirk forming on his lips at the coquettish look on his lover's face.

"Perhaps," Legolas replied, sliding his hands along Elrond's arms.

"Are you going to make me drag it out of you?" he asked, twisting his hands and lacing his fingers through Legolas'.

The younger man smiled and nodded. "That is the past."

"Perhaps," Elrond replied, glad to know no more than he did. "But when I show you other things, I have to know if you are experienced."

"I have never been taken if that is what you seek to know," Legolas said, watching with satisfaction the expression on Elrond's face. It was pleased and delighted, even as the older man tried to contain it. "No one has lain with me in that fashion."

Elrond nodded, smiling in spite of himself. "Then I wish that honor."

"You shall have it, Melme," Legolas whispered, kissing Elrond on the mouth. "Only you."

He lay against Elrond's chest, his hair falling over his shoulders, the great Lord's hands roaming over his back. Legolas broke the kiss, sitting up and sighing, his hands rubbing the soft skin of his own chest. His head dropped back, his long pale neck exposed and Elrond stared at it hungrily. He sat up himself, slipping his arms around Legolas as he began to kiss and suck on that delicate silk.

Legolas hugged him, holding him close to his body as he absorbed the sensations from his lover. He felt like he was floating on a cloud of pleasure and when Elrond lay back he felt bereft. He looked at his lover, feeling beneath him the desire that had been coaxed from his body. He smiled and shifted, watching as Elrond groaned, his fingers gripping the sheets of the bed tightly.

Shifting again, he began to move, the silvery sensations of sexual pleasure gripping him as well. For a moment it was ragged and then he found a rhythm, his hands resting on Elrond's chest.

The noises he coaxed from the older man were incredible and their erotic excitement mingled with his own. Legolas gasped, small and staccato exhales of pleasure as he moved on his lover, the powerful swell of release making conscious thought impossible. He moved faster, pressing harder and when he fell into the abyss of his own orgasm, he could hear the strangled cries of Elrond some place far away.

He twisted and groaned, falling into Elrond's body and strong arms embraced him, holding him as the body beneath him rolled over. Elrond lay on him, moving even as he shuddered himself and when he was finished, they were tangled, sweat covered and hot.

It was silent except for the sound of their breathing. Elrond sighed and closed his eyes. Soon they would be preoccupied full time with the danger of the orcs and moments like this might be few and far between. He would have to store them in memory, sweet mementos of other better times.

Legolas sighed and turned, slipping into Elrond's arms as he rolled over, pulling Legolas to his chest. They lay together, neither moving until a discreet knock on the door broke their magical moment. Elrond sighed and moved gently, slipping out from under the blanket of his lover, pulling on a robe as he walked to the sitting room and the door beyond.

It opened and Erestor entered, their voices low as they chatted and when they were finished, Erestor left, the door closing behind him. Elrond walked back, sitting beside Legolas on the bed. He smiled.

"Reality intrudes upon our fantasy," he said, watching as Legolas rolled toward him. He leaned down and kissed his lips, rising and turning toward his bathing room. "Care to join me?" he asked, watching with a smile as Legolas rose and joined him.

"I have to," Legolas said, slipping his hand in Elrond's. "I am your squire after all."

Elladan and Elrohir rode in, their comrades with them and they set their horses into the paddock behind the house. Walking in, covered with road grime, they traded jibes and jokes with the people of the house. Walking toward their father's study, they clomped up the stairs, looking around for him. Reaching the top, they spotted Legolas and called to him, earning a grin and a shout of hello. Elrond stepped out, map in hand and smiled.

"You're back at last."

"We are," Elrohir said, pulling off his jacket. "Lots of sign but no sightings. They have advance parties into our country and the signs lead in all directions, from here to the sea and out toward the lands of Men."

Elrond frowned, staring at the map. "That indicates great numbers. This is not good news."

"So it appears," Elladan said. "We met with parties from Mirkwood and Lorien. They hadn't been looking but merely endeavored to reach their countries lest too much time intervene. I would say that the Prince of Mirkwood had an attitude that wanted bruising of his nose."

Legolas listened, his face falling into a neutral expression and Elrond glanced at him, turning toward his sons.

"The Prince of Mirkwood has a brother that doesn't need to hear harsh words said of his kin."

Elladan turned to him, shaking his head. "I meant no offense."

"None is taken," Legolas said, his voice strained. He turned to Elrond. "I will take on my chores now, my Lord. If you require me I will come at your call."

He turned and nodded to the twins, moving out of the room and onward to other duties. Elrond fixed a stern look on his sons, the two looking sheepishly back at him.

"You must guard your speech. Legolas doesn't need to bear more of a burden from the weight of his family's flaws than he already does."

"We don't want to harm him, Father," Elrohir said, "but Galdor did try to beat me when they camped with us on the trail."

"Why?" Elrond said, turning and walking into the ante room of his chambers. They followed and sat on chairs, resting their feet on footstools. He sat and put the map on his table, staring at it with worry. "Tell me what happened."

"I have no idea. He was angry all the while, the others filled with good mirth. When I went into the bushes to relieve myself before repose, he called me and I called him back."

"What did he say?" Elrond asked, mildly amused at his son and none surprised.

"He said that he heard all of Rivendell's Princes are great whores," Elladan said, grinning wolfishly.

"And your goodly retort?" Elrond asked his son, his jaundiced eye cast upon both.

"I tried not to retort," Elrohir replied.

"And your goodly retort?" Elrond persisted.

Elrohir sighed and blurted out. "I asked him if he learned that from his mother."

It was silent a moment and then Elrond rose, walking quickly into his bedroom and returning with a message tube in his hand. He flashed past them, leaving them behind, mystified.

"What was that all about?" Elladan asked, watching as their father disappeared out the door.

"I don't know. I am learning at long last not to ask," Elrohir said with a sigh.

He walked to the stable, entering and searching for his lover. Legolas was working on a horse, braiding his mane. The long silken white mane was nearly dragging on the ground and he wound ribbons into braids, plaiting it with great skill.

Stopping and watching, he indulged himself a moment and then moved forward, stopping beside the stall door.

"You have many skills," Elrond said, smiling. "I am always finding out things about you."

Legolas smiled, turning toward him. He glanced both ways and leaned in, kissing Elrond on the lips. "What brings you to the stables, my Lord?"

He sighed and smiled, holding out the tube. Legolas looked at it, a smile slowly growing on his face. Taking it, he opened it and pulled out lovely white paper that contained an elegant Elvish hand. He looked at it and then smiled at Elrond, his face filled with joy.

"It's a letter. From my mother," he said, looking at the lines hungrily. He read them, his eyes following the beautiful writing until it was over. For a moment he stood quietly and then he looked at Elrond, his eyes soft with love.

"I don't know how you got this for me but thank you."

"Ellan gave it to me to give you. He is your mother's champion and good friend," Elrond said.

"My mother is a good person," Legolas said, looking at the letter, filled with home news and her comments of love for him. "I love her dearly. She is my champion."

Elrond nodded, smiling. "She has a lovely son."

He looked up, sighing. "I wish you could know her. I wish you could sit and talk to her. You would love her too."

"I know I would. She after all is the one you are most like, or so a beautiful creature told me once."

Legolas smiled. "She is."

Elrond sighed and kissed him. "I must go. There is bad news from different places and the orc threat must be met."

Legolas nodded and watched him go, the letter clutched in his hands. He looked at it and sighed, the scent of the paper capturing something of the beauty and youth of his mother. He carefully returned it to the tube and tucked it into his jacket, safe and sound and ready to reread later. With a sigh, he turned and began his chores, making Elrond's horse beautiful.

They talked for hours, going over the maps and when they were finished, Elrohir left to clean up. Elladan lingered and Elrond turned to him, looking up from his notes on their reconnaissance.

"Father ... I would like to talk to you about things that I have no business with but must because of the precariousness of things of late."

Elrond looked at him, considering his words and nodded, the two of them sitting in front of the fire. Elladan collected his thoughts and sighed.

"There is no easy way to broach this subject but I have to, for good or ill."

"Say what you mean, Elladan," Elrond said, frowning at the hesitancy of his son.

"All right," Elladan said, exhaling. "I talked in confidence with those of Lorien and Mirkwood whom I count among my friends."

Elrond nodded.

"And ... they spoke of rumors that were circulating among many places about a certain Prince of Imladis and his squire."

Elrond felt the blood drain from his face but he held a neutral expression as he sat back in his chair. "What do they say, these rumor mongers?"

Elladan sat a moment and then he sighed. "They say that the Prince of Imladris holds his squire in thrall ... that he uses him for immoral purposes, thus corrupting his youth and virtue and that he subjects him to ..." He paused and swallowed.

"To what?" Elrond asked, intense fury in his barely whispered voice.

Elladan swallowed. "I don't believe it. I nearly fell into fisticuffs."

"Finish your statement, Elladan."

"They say that this Prince subjects his squire to unnatural practices and demands, abusing him in his minority."

It was quiet in the room for a moment and then Elrond rose and picked up a glass, turning and hurling it against the wall.

=0=TBC

c2010


	15. Chapter 15

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Fifteen

"You look pale."

"I feel pale," Elladan replied, walking slowly to dinner in the great room. He paused by the door, nodding to others and sighed. "Don't bring any discord to table. Father is in a bad mood."

Elrohir peered inside, noting his father's demeanor. "I see it around the edges."

They entered and made their usual comments, joining everyone at the table for dinner. Legolas sat near to Elrond, serving his food and wine. He took it, a gentle expression on his face whenever their eyes met. Elladan sat at his usual place, staring at his food. He didn't feel hungry, nor did it appear, his father.

He glanced up and their eyes met, Elrond's closing in misery for the briefest of seconds and then the mask came over his face. Elladan marveled at his ability to do that, to put into some tightly reined corner of his mind all that vexed him no matter how great.

He was more like his father than Elrohir but he couldn't contain volcanic forces inside with the apparent ease and fortitude that his father had. Of course, he was much younger than his father.

They talked quietly, everyone affected by the subtle change in their lord. Legolas made a valiant attempt to converse with everyone, his perplexity over the change in the mood very clear. Obviously, the great Lord of Imladris had not said anything about the disquieting news to the youngster he so obviously adored.

They sat, talking quietly and after a while Glorfindel rose, yawning loudly. He covered his mouth, smiling slightly. "I must bid you good night. I am tired of the day's toil. I will meet you in the morrow, my Lord and finalize the plans that we talked about today if that suits you."

Elrond nodded. "That suits me well, Glorfindel. Thank you and good night."

He nodded and turned, staring pointedly at the two youngsters sprawling in their chairs. They jumped up and begged off, heading with other stragglers away until only Elrond and Legolas sat at the table. Legolas watched them all go and when it was silent again, he turned and looked at Elrond.

"What is the matter tonight?" he asked, a slight tinge of anxiety in his voice. "Is the news so bad that it makes all around fall into silence?"

Elrond considered just that, the news dampening his heart as much as any he had ever received. He sighed and rose, pulling Legolas to his feet. He laced his fingers with Legolas', walking toward the door silently. They walked through the house and out the door, heading for the path that led down to the river.

Legolas followed, clutching Elrond's hand tightly. He felt a darkness growing over him, dimming the brightness of the stars as they reached the edge of the river. When they were there, Elrond pulled him into an embrace which he returned just as urgently.

They stood together, silently and desperately holding onto each other and then Legolas stepped back, staring into the dark gray eyes that he loved so dearly. They were filled with pain and grief and he stared at them with a growing anguish.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

Elrond sighed and shook his head. "It is too much to hope that we could mean something to each other without penalty. It is said that you and I are together, in many places of this world and the words they say are not kind."

Legolas swallowed hard. "Who says such things and how do they know?"

Elrond shook his head. "They just do."

Legolas stood before Elrond silently searching his face and felt the world falling away below his feet. He stepped closer, embracing him with all his strength. He felt strong arms encircle him.

"What will this mean? My father ..."

"I'm sure he has heard these things," Elrond whispered. "I'm sure that he will want you back."

"I won't go," Legolas said, pulling back. He stared at Elrond, his expression filled with defiance and sorrow. "I don't have to go."

"Of course you would have to, Legolas," Elrond said. "Your mother would die of grief."

He stood a moment, sorrow passing like clouds over his face and then tears spilled, falling silently down his face. Elrond felt his heart rend, the misery of what would surely come coalescing before him.

"I didn't mean to love you, Legolas."

Sad blue eyes looked at him, eyes that brimmed with love for him. "Say you didn't mean that."

Elrond shook his head. "I don't."

Legolas turned and looked at the stars. "Elbereth will hear me if I call to her. My mother said so. I'll do it now. I call to her for help."

Elrond sighed, staring at the dark water. "I love you. I asked you to remember that no matter what happens."

"You had a premonition?" Legolas asked, wiping tears from his face with impatient hands.

"Could it turn out any other way? You came to my house as a protected boy. I was to give you my protection and make sure nothing happened to you."

"But you loved me instead."

"From the moment I saw you," Elrond admitted, his voice soft with pain. He turned and stared at the stars. "I wonder if she would hear us if we both asked her intervention?"

Legolas sighed, staring at Elrond. "I don't think she will. She never has before when I cried to her. I think she must have greater cares than one Elf with a broken heart."

Elrond pulled him into his arms, holding Legolas tightly. "My life was a desolation before you came. I didn't realize it until you brought the light that has been missing for so long. I don't know what I shall do if you have to go."

"I might not have to. Maybe they ... maybe my father ..."

His voice trailed off, the futility of his words apparent to even his own anguished mind.

The river flowed past, soft musical accompaniment to the two as they stood together. The stars were bright and the trees protective but they didn't notice, so complete was their grief.

"What will happen?" Legolas asked, his head resting on Elrond's shoulder.

"I would think he will send an emissary to Lorien and ask that the apprenticeship be canceled by Lord Celeborn."

"Will they?" Legolas asked, looking anxiously into Elrond's face. Tears still fell, slow and silent, markers of his misery and it pained Elrond to see them.

"I would think so," Elrond said. "We are at war and my duties to you are clear. If there is any thought that they were broken then our compact is void."

Legolas closed his eyes in misery. "I didn't need to be coaxed to love you. From the minute I saw you I wanted your affection. You were someone who was kind to me and I took it to my heart."

"You are young," Elrond whispered. "I should have been discreet and turned your youthful infatuations away."

"You didn't," Legolas countered, unnerved by the regret in Elrond's voice. "Do you wish you hadn't? Do you regret that you wanted me?"

Elrond shook his head. "Not for myself do I have any regrets, though this bring disgrace upon my head. It is only for you that I fear. You are the one that brings chills to my heart, the loss to you of all that might come."

"My name? My reputation? I give it all up for the love in my heart. What does it mean to have all of that if there is nothing in your heart that is worth suffering for?"

"You were not made to suffer," Elrond countered. "You must not suffer because I am a fool."

"To love me is to be a fool?" Legolas replied, the hurt on his face clear to see.

"No," Elrond replied, sighing with sorrow. "I was a fool to place you in danger."

Legolas embraced Elrond, closing his eyes in misery. "Hold me."

Elrond held him, bound tightly and as he did, he considered what must surely be coming. A message of huge indignation to Lorien from Thranduil would be first and then a meeting in the great wood with the Lady and Lord. That would be contentious and they would expect for Legolas to be there. After that acrimony, they would have to part and if they did he wondered how he would live.

The moon was slim, a sliver of its former self and the light that it cast was unearthly in its beauty. Standing nearby, silent and still, Elladan and Glorfindel watched, their musing along the walkway cut short by the appearance of the two.

Glorfindel felt the sorrow of a thousand other moments fill his heart and he knew that Elrond was devastated. The youngster was too, by the looks of his demeanor and he wondered what could be done to salvage the situation. Nothing, probably, he thought as he turned, and with Elladan by his side, soundlessly retreated from the sad sight.

They were gone in seconds and when they were, the only witnesses to their pain were the stars in the sky above.

For the next week they worked side-by-side, Legolas assisting as Imladris prepared to wage war on the orcs that were now burning and killing along the leading edge of Lorien. They were not on offensive as yet. These were testing parties, raiders sent out to test the strength of the border guards.

At night they wrapped themselves in passion, taking and giving love to the other with an almost desperate intensity. There were almost no words, so little were they needed, a mental and visual shorthand reaching the other completely and the days passed in tension that was relieved in the night.

When he rode up, Elrond was standing in the courtyard, talking to a visitor from the Havens. He turned and noted the livery on the horse from the Lorien Woods and knew that a message from Celeborn had arrived. He bid the visitor adieu and turned, walking to where Haldir dismounted, greeting him formally.

Haldir stood and delivered his greetings from the Lord and Lady of the Wood. Then he handed his message to Elrond, begging off a stay over, so greatly was he needed at home. Elrond nodded and watched as they rode out, the message in his hand uncommonly heavy.

He turned and walked inside, moving to his study and when he entered, he put it on the table, unable to bring himself to open it. Legolas had seen him, watching as the Lorien Captain of Lord Celeborn's Guard delivered a message capable of ending his happiness.

He followed Elrond, pausing at the study door as he watched him put the message tube on the table. He just stood and stared at it, not moving to open it and so Legolas walked inside, moving to stand next to him.

They both stared at it, at the silent signal of the doom of their happiness and then Legolas reached over to pick it up. Elrond stayed his hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. Legolas stared at him, at the terrible sorrow in his eyes and felt tears once more.

"You have to open it," he whispered, laying his head on Elrond's shoulder. He stood beside Elrond, his hands holding Elrond's arm and he felt the sigh that rose up from the middle of his body. "You have to."

"I'm afraid to," Elrond said, the admission uncharacteristic.

Legolas looked at him, at the pale expression on his face. "If you crumble, my Lord, how will I last?"

Elrond turned to him, staring at him with a terrible intensity. "You've never said my name. It's never crossed your beautiful lips."

Legolas stared at him, at the sorrow in his eyes and wished himself dead. The chasm that would be placed between them would be vast and his hopes of crossing it would be slim. "I don't know how," he whispered, his voice equally soft.

Elrond nodded, drawing a ragged breath and turned, picking up the tube. He opened it and withdrew a fine parchment, reading the script that he knew was his father-in-law's.

"We have to go to Lorien in three days. There will be a council there in which I may answer charges against me. Your father will be there and so will your brothers."

"I will go with you."

Elrond turned to him, putting the paper on the table. "They ask that you come but it is not required. I wish you here, out of harms way. There will be terrible things said."

"I will refute them. I will stand by you," Legolas countered.

"At what cost? What will you hear that will cause grief in your heart? What would it mean if your mother was there?"

"She would stand by me," Legolas replied, his defiance firm.

Elrond smiled slightly, his hand caressing Legolas' cheek. "You are the son of your mother. You mustn't hurt her."

"My mother would seek my happiness. She would see to it that my wishes were heard."

"What are your wishes, Legolas?" Elrond whispered.

"To never leave you, my Lord," Legolas said, embracing Elrond even as he was embraced.

They stood together, holding each other and the next morning when Elrond rode out with his sons, Glorfindel and a guard of men, Legolas stood on by the gate, watching them go until they disappeared from sight.

He would stand there for a long time and then he would turn and go inside, waiting through the endless days for Elrond's return and the news of his fate.

It would be an agonizing, lonely wait.

=0=TBC

c2010


	16. Chapter 16

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Sixteen

By the time they reached the Lorien Wood, he had collected the rage and fear that had pulsed through him from the moment that Elladan had broached the subject. He was gathered together, mentally considering his arguments so that they would be firm and rational when he voiced them.

He had donned his cloak of royal purple, his clothes were impeccable, his boots inlaid with Mithral. He was a king of his people, riding with glittering entourage toward a battle so personal he could barely put words to it. Glorfindel rode next to him, his hair nearly glinting as he wore the proofs of his own lordly background.

They were a brilliant sight, the banner of Imladris carried by a herald and they met the greeting party of the Lord and Lady near the winding road that led to the inner most part of the great forest.

Haldir was there, called back by Galadriel herself to meet Elrond when he came. They were contemporaries, people with a common outlook and as they exchanged words of greeting, Elrond took it for what it was, a token of support from the Queen.

Feeling moderately better, he followed the guard toward the deep dark woods and when they arrived at the home of the two, they dismounted and walked up the long and turning staircases to the door of their home.

Elrond considered how many times he had come here in good and bad and sighed. He knew this wouldn't be good but how bad it would be was beyond even him to calculate.

Cirdan hailed him and he paused, waiting as the Lord of the Havens made his way toward him. He stared at him, surprised by his presence and gripped his arm in the warrior's clasp.

"What brings you to Lorien?" he asked, genuinely pleased to see him.

"Many tidings, my friend, but also the plight which faces you. I am here to observe and to help render a conclusion that keeps our alliances and yet breaks as few hearts as possible."

Elrond winced internally, his private affairs more current among the world than his worst fears conjured. He sighed. "I am pleased for your company and your wise council."

Cirdan pulled him to one side. "Elrond, I have known you more than most over a longer time. I have watched you do right even when it was painful. Now you have found pleasure in the company of a youngster whose father is difficult at best most of the time. I am sorry for your woes but you have my support. I am your friend and comrade and most pleased that you have unfettered your heart to someone, even if it is in this most ... shall we say, unconventional fashion."

Embarrassment warred with gratitude and he nodded, shifting his feet in his discomfort. Cirdan smiled, chuckling slightly.

"Your discomfort only matches mine in having one's private affairs become so public. Obviously the younger ones among us are of lesser mind on such matters."

Elrond nodded and turned, noting the presence of his mother-in-law. She walked down and came to them, the two bowing slightly toward her.

"Elrond, I am gladdened by your presence. Cirdan has been among us these many days, working on the common plan for our security. I am glad he is there for the troubles that face you as well."

He nodded, silenced by his mortification and she took his arm and Cirdan's, turning them toward the house among the trees. They walked with her, Glorfindel joining them and into the lovely building they went.

Celeborn was waiting, watching as they came near. He smiled, nodding at them and gestured them to come further inside, withdrawing to a sitting room nearby. They sat down and waited, Celeborn gathering his thoughts together. He turned and looked at all of them.

"It was not so long ago that we met to determine a way to bury old wounds and build new allegiances. It appears that our efforts have only complicated things. We hoped that the sorrows of the past would be laid aside in favor of new thoughts and manners."

Elrond stared at the floor, his anguish building even as he was surrounded by people who loved him. The picture of Legolas' grief, the sadness on his face, it came back to him. The sorrow of the world on the face of a person is terrible he thought but the sorrow on the face of an Elf is beyond measuring.

"Elrond ..."

He looked up, his dark eyes finding Celeborn's. Their misery matched and then it was masked, hidden from sight by those less aware of what to look for.

"Elrond, your heart has betrayed your judgment. I will not fault that. Who but my Lady and I know what sorrow and loneliness you have suffered at the passing of our good daughter? You were a good husband to her and gave us grandchildren. For that and much, much more, you will always have our love and devotion.

"What we must do now is hard to bear. A father of a child in their minority has rights and they must be heeded. It is difficult to contemplate the impact of this transgression on the morale of our people at this stressed time. At best in the past, allegiances were fluid and based on the lower instincts of some who participated. It caused unnecessary grief and hardship among our people and there were deaths that could have been avoided had conflict not been so focused."

Elrond leaned back, the desolation of his life forming before his eyes. Waves of despair filled him and he didn't hide it on his face, closing his eyes against the inevitability of the future.

Galadriel watched him, her own heart filled with pain. She loved him, this unique one among them and she felt his wounding as deeply as if it were her. She sat and watched, knowing their options were few. The King of Mirkwood, his two sons and entourage were nearby, waiting with little forbearance the meeting of later evening.

Celeborn sighed and moved closer, his own sorrow clear. "It is a heavy task to bear a crown. Few among us know that more than you. It means that your life is not your own and your choices are always balanced on the edge of a blade. The son of Thranduil must go home to his family and you must make some amends for this matter. If," he paused, already knowing the answer, "that which is said is true."

Elrond didn't answer. He sat staring into middle space, into the darkness that formed before him and threatened his happiness so completely. He rose with effort and bowed slightly. "I am fatigued from my travels and wish to rest, if that is pleasing to my Lord."

Celeborn nodded, gesturing toward the room that Elrond always occupied on his visits. He bowed to Cirdan and Galadriel, moving past them and out of view, leaving a heavy and silent wake behind him.

Glorfindel rose and sighed, aggravation rising through him like a tide. "In all my dealings these past many years, I have not seen happiness be his lot until the arrival of this young one. It is not a planned thing, what has happened. Surely there must be some way to mend the breach, to make an allegiance based on real substance with Mirkwood."

"We are in discussion," Galadriel replied, sighing softly. "My Lord Celeborn and I have talked with the King over the space of two days. He is most reluctant to relinquish his anger and the idea of relinquishing a son to the Lord of the Valley is beyond his scope at the moment."

"There is no hope then," Glorfindel asked.

"There is always hope," Celeborn replied stubbornly. "We are all alive and we are all intelligent people. We are treading old ground, the past rising to smite down our future. We *must* make peace with the dead."

Cirdan sighed. "Elrond is as a brother to me. I will not fault his heart even as I worry about the consequences of the reaction of Thranduil. He is an impetuous and unpredictable man, that one, the son of his father. However, the foe we face will not distinguish between us and we have to work together in spite of our feelings."

"But how many will die needlessly because of ill feelings?" Glorfindel asked, pacing with aggravation.

"That is the question no one can speak to but Thranduil," Galadriel said quietly.

No one had an answer to that.

He sat on the bed, staring at the toes of his boots. He was chilled with grieving, the frost accumulating in his heart moving slowly and inexorably outward. There was little legal or moral high ground for him and he struggled to find the words that would make them see that this had transpired almost against both of their wills. Then he remembered a stricken expression and the strangled words spoken: "Say you didn't mean that."

He rose and paced, his anguish forming in tears unshed. He was far away from the core of his soul, the youngster that had brought him to his knees when nothing else could. All the long years, the losses and wins, the end of his marriage and the burdens of his duties, they had not felled him. He had borne them all.

But now ...

Now he was in thrall to the blue eyes and golden hair of a youngster from another land. He was in thrall to the sweet soul and kind ways of a boy who was the grandson of a man who hated him, a man who had died rather than listen to reason.

It should never have happened, this alliance between them. It shouldn't have been possible, this bonding of spirit. But it had happened and would now be sundered, severed like a cord around a package.

He sat again, gripping the edge of the bed and struggled to formulate some argument, some reasoned string of words that could turn laws and custom on their head. He couldn't in the end and when the call came to meet, he rose and drew his great dignity together, walking out to meet the new foe, one in a long and unending line shading back into the mists of time.

Thranduil stood in the same spot he did when his son was sent from him. He stared at Elrond, the two meeting and holding level gazes. Glorfindel stood beside Elrond, Cirdan moving to a place of honor beside Galadriel and the sons of Thranduil stood with their father. Their mother was nowhere to be seen.

Celeborn stared at them and then moved forward, gesturing for them to sit. Thranduil moved slowly, sitting first and Elrond turned, relaxing onto his chair with a natural nonchalance that almost made Cirdan smile. Glorfindel sat beside him and the sons of Thranduil stood.

It was deathly silent.

Celeborn sighed and looked at both. "We are much dismayed by the level of discord that exists between our people, among the leadership and families that have responsibility. It has gone on too long, this lack of amity and we would like to mediate a settlement this day."

"What settlement?" Thranduil interjected. "My son has suffered abuse at the hand of his keeper and you ask me for indulgences?"

"I ask you to be a king," Celeborn said, ignoring the tension rising in Thranduil's sons. "You have a kingdom to consider in your dealings today. We are menaced at all places by the shadow of the southern lands and we have to work together to vanquish it. To dispute now, to make a chasm in the unity of our purpose invites death and failure in our goals."

"My son was sent at your request to squire in the House of Elrond. He was sent there with assurances, guarantees of his safety and now I find that there are rumors among people that this is not so. There are rumors that he has been subjected against his will to unnatural and hellish practices that compromise his person."

Rage flashed through Elrond and he rose, turning with malevolent visage toward the seated figure. His sons turned toward Elrond, their hands resting on the grip of their swords, even as Glorfindel did likewise.

"Your son is precious to me. I will not discount that I love him. That would put shame on the esteem with which I hold him. He is as precious to me as my own daughter. Nothing that has transpired has been against his will, no matter how much you might want to think so."

Thranduil rose and stepped closer, his face dark with anger. "You have made my son a harlot, taking him to your bed and abandoning your manliness in your unnatural desires. You have made him dirty in the eyes of his family and you cannot concoct words in a fashion that will change this reality."

"Your son," Elrond said, barely able to articulate so completely did he seethe with rage, "is as the snow, perfect and unblemished. He is the lonely ignored one among you, seeking a home some place where someone will see him for what he is ... a rare and beautiful treasure. But then, Thranduil," Elrond seethed, stepping closer to his foe, "he cannot be worn on a chain or worked into a crown, can he? His worth is beyond you to measure."

Thranduil struck, his fist connecting with Elrond's chin and he staggered, righting himself. Elrond swung himself, moving forward and the blow hit Thranduil on the side of the face. Before more landed, hands pulled them back and they stood facing each other with an intensity of anger not seen in Lorien in a long time.

"I want my son!" Thranduil raged, glaring at Celeborn as he shrugged off his sons. "I want him now. I will not tolerate for one more day this outrage against my honor and that of my House. My son comes to me!"

Celeborn stared at him, his own emotions carefully concealed. "You will retire to your chambers. I will render my decision shortly."

Thranduil stared at him, then seethed at Elrond, turning and walking away into the corridor beyond. His sons followed slower, staring at Elrond with unconcealed hatred. When they were gone, Cirdan and Glorfindel released Elrond.

Celeborn expelled a deep breath, glancing at his anguished Lady. He shook his head, moving closer to his son-in-law. He stared at him with the deepest sorrow he could feel.

"You know my decision."

Elrond stared at him, unshed tears in his eyes.

"Then go you to Imladris. When I send my guard, they will take him to his father."

Elrond stared at Celeborn and then without a word, turned and hurried out, rushing into the night for his horse. Glorfindel and the guard barely managed to follow and then they disappeared into the night.

Celeborn stood on the terrace, his arm around his wife. They watched as the party vanished, their grief intense. Then without a word, they walked inside to render a verdict to Thranduil.

Cirdan watched them go, his heart heavy. It was a starry night above but he didn't see them, so completely at odds with peace did he feel at this time.

He rode into the night, his entourage around him. The wind kicked up but he didn't care, the smell of rain unnoticed. He only wanted to get home and tell Legolas himself. He wanted to be there when his world crashed down and tell him of his regret and love in privacy.

As he rode onward, the wind dried his tears which slid silently down his cheeks. He had not cried since his wife went west, that sorrow long ago and seemingly in another lifetime. This one was here, mocking him as he flew and he knew he would never be happy again.

=0=TBC

2010


	17. Chapter 17

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Seventeen

He stood on the terrace, Elrond's chambers behind him aglow with the light of many candles. He had not slept there for the first night but after that his anxiety and loneliness had compelled him to go, curling up in the bed where they slept together when he was home. A robe of his Lord adorned him, the silken fabric caressing his naked skin.

The house was empty and his chores seemed pointless, Erestor allowing him his sorrow. He wandered about the house, seldom pausing for long and he ate very little, so great was his worry about the outcome in Lorien that would affect his life forever.

He knew they had little chance, the rules of his apprenticeship explicit about the conduct they must observe. His father had drilled it into him before he left and he knew in his heart that it was from a form of love for him, how ever flawed.

He would never have the kind of unconditional love he sought from his father. He couldn't give it. It mystified Legolas a long time until he considered his father as a whole. Good, strong and decent, he was also driven, flawed and ambitious. His brothers bore the yoke better than he did, their spirits toughening as they stove to meet the expectations of a demanding father.

Legolas had polished the veneer of such a spirit, giving to his father and brothers what they thought he was, what they wanted from him. But it wasn't him. His mother was the only one who had known what sort of person he was, what he dreamed of and what he hoped to be. His mother loved him unconditionally and didn't scoff at his questions and his stated wishes and goals.

When he came to Rivendell, he had put on the quiet shield that had stood him through the many pitfalls of his growing up and only when Elrond showed him that a man could be kind and gentle, giving him time and attention, only then did cracks appear in its glossy and self-absorbed surface.

He sighed and considered a conversation he had with Elladan the night before. They had stood by the pool at the river side, skipping rocks together as Elladan awkwardly tried to comfort him.

"Did you love me when you pursued me or was it something more base?" he had asked, watching the truth on Elladan's face.

He shrugged, his face flushing red. "I thought of you with lust and desire. I didn't care to find out more at the time."

Legolas nodded, sighing. "That is something I have experienced before."

"My father is different," Elladan ventured.

"Your father is the first person besides my mother who looks at me and sees *me* standing there. I'm not some construct of his desires. I'm me, Legolas."

"My father is a different man than most," Elladan admitted, staring at Legolas' profile as he watched the river flow.

"Your father is the only person in this great wide world that I love more than my mother. I would allow the river to swallow me whole before I would allow hurt to befall him."

"My father is a tough man," Elladan replied, sighing. "But I feel that if this goes ill, it would elude his intellect and his spirit about how to live with it. He has not loved anyone since our mother's passing so many years ago."

Legolas turned to him, a sad expression on his face. "I am sorry for your loss."

"I am too," Elladan replied. "I miss her more than you can know. My father is a good parent, wise and kind, but there is no one like a mother to love you."

He nodded, staring at the stars above. "My mother is my champion," he repeated.

"You have many. My father is doing battle for you and the Lord and Lady of the Wood will do what they can. If it can be made right for you, it will be."

"And if it isn't?" Legolas asked softly.

"Then I fear for you both, my regret is too great for me to say more," Elladan said, moving to sit on a stone bench. He stared at Legolas, at the air of defeat and sorrow about him and hated the world for its indifference.

They pressed on, Elrond not stopping for more than a moment or two, so great was his desire to return home. They passed the out lands of their own country with the rising of the sun and behind them lay days of hard travel.

They rode along the great road that lead to the divide where one could go to three other countries, hurrying tired horses along. Elrond rode with a fixed purpose, aiming to arrive at home in the early evening.

It had rained and they continued, their slickers keeping them reasonably dry. They passed a number of people on their way here and there and it was a sight to see, this party riding west.

In his mind he had gone over all the arguments, the states of mind, the reasoned and impassioned pleas and even though his rational mind felt that there was no hope, his emotions begged otherwise.

The closer to home he came the less the grip of fear seemed to hold him and as he crested the mountain that would lead them down into the winding trail toward home, the more calm he grew.

Far down the valley, nestled against a mountainside, the house he had called home for generations of men awaited him. Some place in that house, waiting for his return, the only one who had reached him in centuries was watching for him. This he knew. What he would tell him when he arrived, he didn't know. That part of his sorrow he hadn't broached yet and as they moved single-file on the long and narrow trail, he considered what he would say to his lover.

It was getting dark when they rode into the courtyard, the horses tired and the men silent. He stood on the terrace of Elrond's chamber, watching with fearful eyes as they climbed down from their steeds.

Elrond had searched for him, his eyes moving from window to balcony to terrace and when he saw him, leaning on the railing, staring back with intensity, he felt pain rend his heart.

Handing his reins to a member of his party, he turned and hurried inside, leaving Glorfindel and his sons behind. Nodding to Erestor, he turned and climbed the stairs two by two, disappearing as Glorfindel and the others walked inside. Erestor looked at Glorfindel, a stricken expression darkening his face as the older Elf shook his head sadly.

Erestor sighed and turned, staring at the twins as he considered what it would mean for their household. Elrond had barely acknowledged him, hurrying on to Legolas beyond and as they stood together, it seemed dimmer and colder all around them.

"I have food for you," he said, squeezing Glorfindel's arm. "Come. Eat."

Reluctantly and without enthusiasm, they followed him into the dining room beyond.

He hurried down the corridor, reaching his rooms and threw open the door, entering. He looked around, spotting him on the terrace and rushed to him, embracing Legolas in his agonized desperation. Legolas embraced him back, hugging him as tightly as he could. They stood together, holding each other as the sorrow of their situation overwhelmed them.

"I failed," Elrond whispered, kissing Legolas' neck over and over. "I failed."

Tears brimmed and spilled over as he held the youngster, wishing with all his heart they were anywhere but here. Legolas felt tears fall and sighed, his fingers entwined in Elrond's long dark hair.

"What becomes of me?" Legolas asked, staring into Elrond's anguished eyes. "What happens now?"

"Celeborn will send a company to take you home," Elrond whispered, his agony audible.

"I don't want to go," Legolas said, sighing with misery. "What about what *I* feel?"

"You haven't the age to have the right to choose. This whole business ... I ... it's my fault, Legolas. I should have known better."

"What should you have known?" Legolas asked, holding Elrond's face in his hands. He wiped away some of the tears, ignoring his own and kissed Elrond softly. "How could you know that this would come to pass? That I would love you like I do?"

Elrond closed his eyes, caving into his misery and Legolas held him. All of the long years of emptiness rushed back into his mind and he felt that there was no hope left in the world.

Legolas turned and they walked to the bed, sitting side-by-side. He saw exhaustion, sorrow and recrimination and turned, kneeling before his Lord. With tender care, he removed Elrond's boots, his socks and his cloak. Putting them to one side, he pushed the older man back, rising and walking to his bathing room. He turned the tap, the flow of water falling from the cistern beyond. Turning, he poured water from a container that he had heated when he had heard they were coming.

He mingled it, the temperature none too hot and returned to where Elrond was sitting dejectedly on the bed. He sat beside his lover, stroking his hair, waiting for him to recover. He drew a ragged sigh, turning anguished eyes on Legolas, regret written large on his face.

"Let us not think about it now," Legolas said gently. "Let me take care of you."

He let the youngster remove his shirt and his trousers, all of his clothes falling into a pile in the corner. He rose and walked wearily, Legolas' arm around him and into the bathtub he went.

Legolas knelt, removing the plaits from Elrond's hair and then he stood and removed his own clothing. Gently and carefully, he slipped in behind Elrond, wrapping him in his arms as he settled.

They were quiet together, holding each other as the steam rose around them. Legolas sighed and rested his head on Elrond's shoulder, closing his eyes against the darkness that surrounded them.

"I am sorry," Elrond said, rubbing his cheek against Legolas' hair.

"You were my champion, I know," Legolas whispered, kissing Elrond on the shoulder.

"I can't let you go," Elrond said, his voice emotional. He sighed and shook his head. "I don't know how to let you go."

"I can't stay. My father will come for me and people will get hurt. *You* will get hurt."

"He would only kill a corpse," Elrond said. "If you leave, I won't know how to live now."

"Nor I," Legolas replied softly.

For hours he paced, uneasiness suffusing him. In the moonlight he usually could sort out his problems, working solutions to the myriad of cares that a kingdom like Lothlorien required. Celeborn was stymied by this one, the complexity of the heart making solution impossible.

He was aware of the infatuation between Elrond and his charge early on, a casual comment by Haldir striking a cord in his mind. Elrond was lonely, the Prince was beautiful, lightning struck. But it was a zero-sum game he reasoned, as playing with fire always was and in the flash of a moment's recognition, Elrond had done something he had never done before. He had stepped outside of the rules.

Thranduil had ridden out, mollified that the Lord of the Lorien Wood would insure that his son would be returned. Legolas had a way to go before he was shut of his father's control and even so, cutting oneself off from one's family was a terrible thing for an Elf to endure, even one from as unsettled a family as Legolas'.

He gave himself a day to consider what to do and then decided that a break now was no more easy than one a week later. He had dispatched Haldir and a troop of his guard to fetch the Prince from Elrond and escort him to the border lands of Mirkwood where he would be given back to his father.

It was deeply distasteful, being a party to this kind of sorrow but he had a responsibility to each side to be fair, even if his heart called upon him to choose.

If he had his way, he would choose Elrond. But that was not a luxury for a king, to choose whatever he willed. The way of a king was long and lonely and few knew it better than him. Indeed, few knew it better than Elrond of Rivendell. That was true indeed, but it was cold comfort to Celeborn as he paced on along the river by his home.

Nearby, watching, Galadriel looked at the stars that shown down upon her husband. They were cold comfort to them both this night, the last one that Elrond would have with his lover.

He turned and walked to the door, pausing to look back. Dressed in traveling clothes, Legolas stared at the figure lying exhausted in sleep on the bed. He looked at the sleep-smoothed face, the quiet form lying on his side of the bed and sighed, a spasm of pain filling his heart. He turned and opened the door, stepping out, his bow and quiver in his hand.

It was quiet in the house and by the time he reached the stables, he was clear of any prying eyes. He entered and found a horse, saddling it with his own saddle. Leading it out, he donned his bow and quiver, mounting up without a sound. Pausing, he looked up at the window where Elrond slept alone.

He sat and considered the irony of his life that he should seek love for all his days and having found it, be denied. He sighed raggedly and gathered the reins, glancing up at the window one more time.

"Good-bye, Elrond," he whispered. Silently, with great care, he turned his horse and rode through the gate, heading for the trail that would lead out of the valley and away from the most comforting and loving place he had ever known.

=0=TBC

c2010


	18. Chapter 18

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Eighteen

He awoke with a jolt, immediately feeling around the bed for the other who had lay down with him the night before. He was too tired to love him, the one who haunted his dreams and so they lay in each others arms, Legolas' heart beating softly beneath his ear.

Now he was alone and he sat up, looking around. For a moment he listened and then he felt it, a shard of such cold desperation pierce his heart that he winced, stilling him as he struggled to clear his thoughts.

He jumped from the bed and reached for his robe, a note falling to the ground as he pulled it on. He paused and then reached down, picking it up. For a moment he just stared and then he opened it, reading the words written in a clear and firm hand.

=0=

Melme,

I cannot stay and cause you more grief. My father will come and there will be violence. I don't wish trouble in your home. Your kindnesses to me are too numerous to count. I am leaving now and I don't wish you to follow. I love you. I will always love you, Elrond.

L

=0=

He stared at it, his eyes blurring with tears and then he turned, running out into the hallway. Down the corridor he raced, down the stairs and into the dining room where his sons sat with Glorfindel, Erestor and a couple of the local boys who were friends of the family. He stood before them, robed and frantic, his hair hanging blown and tousled around his face.

"He's gone."

Elladan rose and moved toward the door, pausing for a moment. "Did he say where?"

Elrond shook his head. "No. There are orcs on the main road. We saw their signs. They didn't attack us because we were too many but one rider alone ..."

They all rose and filed past him, pausing to gather weapons before walking to the door and the stables beyond. Before they were out the door Elrond was already upstairs, pulling on clothes and gathering his weapons. Turning, he ran down the corridor, shrugging on his weapons and by the time he was outside, his horse was waiting.

They mounted up, Elladan shouting for more soldiers and when they set out, there were more riding in the other direction, each group determined to find Legolas before trouble befell him.

He rode along the main highway that linked the sanctuary of Imladris with the arteries that led in all directions. There were roads heading toward the domain of men and others going to Eldar kingdoms scattered here and there.

Around the howl of pain in his head he considered what he could do. The likelihood of finding sanctuary in Elf lands was small, most of the great lords would honor his father's claim to him. There were other places to go, other people who would have less reason to follow the wishes of his father but they were all of another race than him. He didn't know what it would mean to live among men, their ways totally alien to his understanding, but he had little choice and so as he came to the crossroad that led in two directions, he chose to head for Gondor.

As he did, he felt a darkness touch him, a strange sensation of danger and so he spurred his horse, hurrying along the road, determined to reach habitation before it got dark again.

It was mid-afternoon when they reached the crossroads, Elrond pondering which way Legolas would go. He considered there was refuge in other Elvish kingdoms but there was also obligation by their lords to return him to his father. The road split in two, one artery leading in the general direction of men and Elrond considered Legolas' dreams to adventure in places strange to his experience.

Turning to his sons and four soldiers, he directed them to take the left fork while he, Glorfindel and Erestor took the right. He watched as they rode away, turning and hurrying down the road before him, listening with his ears and his heart for a lone rider ahead. He rode as fast as he could, heading toward the hills beyond and the growing certainty that things were very, very wrong.

They fell upon him, his horse tiring and when they rounded a bend, his horse stumbled. Shadows were falling as the sun slipped farther into the horizon and when he fell onto the road, it knocked the wind from him. His horse cried out, staggering to its feet and turning, facing orcs as they gathered.

Legolas rose, his heart pounding in his chest and pulled his bow and an arrow together quickly. One struck an orc in the forehead, another in the chest and by the time a third landed they were upon him.

He dropped his bow and pulled his blades, flashing them in all directions as the dark tide overran him. He fell and was held, rough hands pulling his weapons away and as he cried out to Elbereth, he felt his doom overtake him.

Elrond beat his horse with his reins, the psychic terror of Legolas reaching them. They flew down the road, rounding the bend, passing orcs that had fallen in the chase. He reined in his horse, pulling his sword in a fluid moment and was on his feet in seconds.

Rushing forward, Gil-galad's name on his lips, he flashed his sword with abandon. For a moment they froze and then they turned, a black cloud of murder moving toward him. Then arrows struck home as Glorfindel and Erestor rushed forward, firing almost faster than the eye could follow.

Orcs fell, others taking their place and for a moment the battle was almost too close to tell. But then they began to fall back, the ferocity of the Elves too much to absorb and once again they melted back into the trees.

Elrond paused and then flung down his sword, pulling orcs off the silent, still figure of Legolas. He cried out, pulling Legolas over onto his back, frantically searching him for signs of life. Glorfindel knelt beside him, grasping a wrist as he checked the boy. He turned, gripping Elrond's arm.

"He lives, Elrond."

Elrond nodded and looked around. "We have to leave here. It grows dark."

Glorfindel rose, looking around. Erestor stood, bow at the ready and Glorfindel whistled, gratified when four horses trotted back into view. He turned to Elrond.

"What is his condition?"

"He is bruised and battered. There is a concussive mark on his forehead. I don't detect any wounds," he replied, his relief clearly evident in his voice.

"Then ride him on your horse and let us not tarry."

Elrond moved the youngster, who stood groggily. They put him on Elrond's horse and Glorfindel gathered their weapons, affixing them to Legolas' steed. Mounting up, swords in hand, they rode briskly with Elrond, one on either side as they headed back toward the junction.

Along the way, in the trees on either side, they caught flashes of movement as orcs followed. They hurried, their curved swords glinting in the fading light of the day and when they reached the junction they met the others returning.

"Is he dead?" Elrohir asked, his eyes wide with fear.

"No," Glorfindel replied as they watched Elrond check the groggy youngster's pulse. His fingers lingered on Legolas' neck as Elrond felt the thready beating.

"He needs attention. We have to hurry." Elrond looked around them. "They fill the trees on each side of us. Let us not tarry."

They grouped up, Elrond in the middle and rode as quickly as they dared toward the sanctuary of the valley beyond. It was dark when they reached the trail and after alerting sentries, they continued onward until they reached the courtyard of the house.

Glorfindel dismounted and hurried to Elrond, catching Legolas gently in his arms. Elrond dismounted and took Legolas back, turning and walking into his house with his burden. They followed, others taking the horses and up the stairs they went. Elrond kicked open the door to his rooms and walked to his bed, gently laying the youngster down.

Turning and tearing off his cloak, he examined the blow on Legolas' head. It was black and angry, but very treatable. Elrond sighed and began a further examination, finding nothing more than black and blue marks and a small scrape on the side of Legolas' neck.

Rising, he began to treat the wounds, the concussion and the scrape. As he did, he worked on his own hurts and fear and the sure knowledge that Legolas would be leaving him when he was well.

Haldir arrived early the next morning, a contingent of riders from the Great Wood at his side. He dismounted, met by Erestor and together they all walked inside, pausing before the fire in the great hall.

"We are here for the Prince," Haldir said. "My Lord sends his greetings to you and yours."

Erestor nodded. "There has been a problem. The young Prince has been attacked on the road by orcs. He is injured but recovering."

"That is bad news," Haldir said, frowning. "His injuries ... they are not serious."

"No," Erestor said. "We rescued him in time."

"There are orcs everywhere and they are bold," Haldir said. "We saw their sign in the woods all along the way. They are not shy about crossing borders into fortified lands."

Erestor nodded. "I know," he said. "Come. Let me fix you a repast."

Haldir nodded and followed Erestor into the dining room, sitting at the table with his men. As he waited for his meal, he considered the delay and the threat against his own lands. They would have to make their moves soon before the enemy encompassed too much terrain. Their own battles had been fierce but they were holding their own and soon they would have to return. Soon the others would have to come and assist as the potential for disaster was growing stronger as each day passed.

It was early morning when he came out of the twilight that had surrounded him in his illness. He sighed, opening his eyes slowly. A figure was sitting on the bed next to him, a hand holding his and he turned his head toward it, the face of his lover finally coalescing before him.

"Elrond," he whispered.

Elrond smiled, kissing Legolas' hand. "You spoke my name to me."

Legolas stared at him, at the grief on his face and licked his dry lips. "I am sorry."

"No," Elrond said quietly. "It is I who am sorry."

Legolas closed his eyes, the burning tears therein welling up. He willed them not to fall and he turned his head away, sighing softly. "No one was hurt coming for me were they?"

"No," Elrond replied, the image of him lying on the road welling up once more. He quashed it with difficulty, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

"Good," Legolas replied, turning his head toward Elrond once more. "I am going home aren't I."

It was stated rather than asked and Elrond nodded barely perceptively, a tear rolling down his cheek. He brushed it away, holding Legolas' hand tightly. "Men from Lorien are here to take you home."

"I don't want to go," Legolas said quietly.

"I don't want you to go," Elrond replied.

It was quiet for a moment. "I want you to make me yours."

Elrond looked at him. "You are."

"More. Make me yours. I offered it to you once. You asked me for the honor."

Elrond sighed, kissing Legolas' hand. "You are hurt."

"I am yours. Make it so between us. Please." Legolas stared at him, watching desire war with concern. "You are mine. Make me yours."

Elrond swallowed hard and kissed Legolas' hand once more. "Sleep. I will think on it."

"Don't think, Elrond. Make me yours. My father can't own the heart of me. I want that to be yours. Take it. I give it to you."

Elrond leaned down and kissed Legolas, lingering on his lips as he memorized the sensation of it. Soon it would be all he would have, memories and despair. "Rest and I will think on it."

He rose and with a last caress of Legolas' face, he turned and walked to the balcony, glancing back to see Legolas falling into sleep. He sighed and stepped out, watching the rays of golden light glance off the peaks beyond. The waterfalls shed their music into the air as birds rustled from their slumber. People stirred and began their days and the river flowed ever onward toward the great sea far away.

Everything was happening as it ever did and nothing was the same. His world was collapsing around him, the small portion of it that he claimed for himself. Nothing could be done about it, he knew. Celeborn and Cirdan had tried. Their failures rankled them, he knew. His own ate at his heart, filling him with a dark despair that was overwhelming.

He had not planned this, this aberration in his life but he was desperately grateful for it all the same. Before he had never noticed how alone he truly was and now he had found the sunlight again, even as shadows pressed all around him.

Legolas wanted him, the last intimacy remaining to be seized between them and he acquiesced, denying to that youngster nothing. He would claim something of Legolas even as he was claimed and no matter what happened, no matter what Thranduil demanded, they would be bound to each other as surely as if they were together in this place.

He watched the sun fill the sky, the darkness giving way to blue sky. For now it was bright but he knew the color would dim, as all colors would when Legolas rode out of his life. He stood a long time and then he walked back inside, sitting beside the sleeping youngster on his bed. As he sat, he memorized Legolas' features, the soft sound of his breathing and the strength of his hand. Soon it would be all that he would have.

Erestor left the chamber, Glorfindel behind him. Sitting in the corridor, almost as if on a death watch, Elladan and Elrohir waited. They rose and followed the two older Elves down the stairs, walking into the great room. A fire roared and they sat down, staring glumly into its bright heat.

"Father knows Haldir is here?" Elrohir asked.

"He does." Glorfindel sighed gently.

"Then Legolas goes in the morning," Elrohir said.

"He does," Glorfindel replied. "He does."

=0=TBC

c2010


	19. Chapter 19

=0=Fortunate Son, Part Nineteen

He sighed, the hands stroking his back strong and experienced. Candle light flickered, adding a soft glow to the room and as he lay awash with sensation he could almost forget that in the morning he had to leave. They had lain down together, holding each other in the quiet of their last evening. Elrond was gentle, more gentle than ever before and Legolas absorbed every sensation he coaxed.

His own hands had roamed, sliding over smooth skin and firm muscle, lingering on scars both ancient and not so. His fingers threaded through dark hair, the texture recorded into his memories. He felt everything deeper and considered everything longer this night, their last.

They lay together side by side, kissing and touching, whispering to each other in ancient and almost forgotten tongues. Elrond spoke to him, telling him of his love, the Quenya almost musical to his ears. He didn't know every word and he cursed himself for not paying attention more closely to the tutors that he had as a child. The words were soft, almost like caresses and he listened to every syllable.

He whispered back, answering each declaration, each softly spoken promise with words of his own. They felt smaller, the poetry of Elrond's words eclipsing his own but they were equal in their passion. He sighed, raising his leg along Elrond's, pressing against him as he leaned forward.

Their lips met and there was silence, Elrond's hands caressing Legolas' back as he held the youngster. Legolas sighed against his lips, his eyes opening slowly. "Make me yours ..."

The fire that flared in Elrond was from another time, another place altogether. He hadn't felt this much need, this much possession in the entirety of his life and as he nodded, he kissed Legolas' lips with all his passionate desire.

The youngster groaned, turning as directed by Elrond's strong hands. He lay on his stomach, his head pillowed on his arms and waited with eyes closed. Elrond sighed, running his fingers down Legolas' spine, smoothing them across the base of his back, up the swell of his ass and down the long soft lines of his legs.

He felt himself burning with need but he banked it, holding it back for the moment when he could unleash it in the beautiful body lying before him. He reached across Legolas and picked up a small vial, one he had brought with him moments earlier. It contained a special substance, fresh-smelling of meadow flowers but slick and oily in texture.

He kissed his way down Legolas' spine, lingering in the valley at its base, then moving on toward the firm flesh that beckoned him. He rubbed his cheek against them, pleasure surging through him at the answered sigh from his lover. He tipped the vial and poured a small drop or two onto his fingers, rubbing them together.

He lay his head on Legolas' back, kissing him softly and then reached for the place he needed. Legolas tensed and then relaxed slightly at the unfamiliar invasion of his body. Elrond sighed, the warmth rising up through him as the pleasure of this moment captured his senses.

Legolas sighed and relaxed as best he could, long effort by Elrond being expended for his comfort. For a moment it was alien and then it was comforting, the odd sensation of intrusion being replaced by a growing pleasure.

Over and over, the intrusion came and went, each time his own body relaxing more as the sensation became pleasant, even in a needy way. He considered in the fog of his growing passion that this was the last barrier between them. He was submitting to this with a willing heart, determined to find something that would be theirs no matter what happened next.

Another man was going to take him and he felt pleasure in the idea of it. Whether the pleasure of the action met his hopes and dreams was entirely in Elrond's hands. He didn't have a clue how to help him. He just knew he needed him and this moment desperately.

Elrond kissed his back, rubbing his cheek against Legolas' body as he made his lover ready for him. This gift was enormous, the significance more than apparent and he did all he knew from a lifetime of experience to ensure that Legolas would know pleasure.

Moving to rise, he pulled pillows to him, reaching under as he straddled Legolas to pull him to his knees. He slipped the pillows under him, pressing him gently down and then Elrond reached back, spreading his long legs apart. Taking the vial once more, he poured out a drop or two of oil, making himself ready as he stared down at his lover.

Legolas was lying quietly, his long golden hair sprayed around his face, his eyes closed as he waited. Elrond leaned down, kissing his cheek. "Tell me if I hurt you," he whispered, brushing golden strands away from Legolas' face.

"You won't hurt me," Legolas whispered, relaxing his body as he waited.

Elrond sighed and kissed Legolas' shoulder, lying down and reaching between them. He moved and found the place he sought, guiding himself slowly as he stared down at Legolas' face. As Elrond pressed forward, a slight grimace crossed that expressive face and as quickly as it came, it disappeared, a soft moan issuing from his lips.

Elrond sighed and moved forward again, slowly and inexorably making his way. Legolas gripped the sheets, sighing softly but he didn't speak, instead absorbing sensation as it rose in him. Elrond moved again, over and over until he could go no farther, relaxing against Legolas' back, his weight carried on his arms.

"I love you," Legolas whispered, his eyes flickering open. "I need you."

Elrond kissed his shoulder, rubbing his head against the soft silk of Legolas' hair. "I need you too."

"Then do it," Legolas whispered, his eyes closing once more.

Elrond sighed and began to move, slowly and carefully, his body pressed along the length of his lover. Legolas moaned, his breathing increasing as sweat began to bead on his face. Elrond felt it too, the heat between them and the sweat trickled down into his eyes. He closed them, moving more forcefully against his lover, reaching out and taking his hands into his own.

Legolas took it, the possession by his lover, the deep and emotionally raw moment searing itself into him. There were no other secrets between them, this intimacy marking petty all other things. He was filled and moved, Elrond's strength leeching into him, absorbed as he was taken by the other.

Elrond groaned, holding off as long as he could as he made the moment last. He felt all of Legolas at that moment, every muscle, every emotion and he took it in, desperate to know him in every way possible. Soon he would be gone and there would only be this moment, mocking him with its singularity as he faced the world alone again.

The light flickered, dancing off sweat slicked skin and as Elrond moved he felt his moment coming. He groaned, his muscles tensing and all of his control began to fray. He thrust harder, falling into his orgasm and as he shuddered, he whispered Legolas' name.

The youngster felt himself cleaving in two, the power of his lover almost overwhelming. He felt sensations he never known before and they welled up in him, eclipsing his conscience mind. He cried out, raising his head, his eyes closed in pleasure and pain.

Elrond squeezed his hands, shuddering through his orgasm, falling heavily on Legolas as he did. Legolas jerked, the fire behind his eyes flashing like a storm as he twisted to his own conclusion. Then it was quiet, the two lying together, Elrond's arms around his chest. It was silent a moment and then Legolas gripped Elrond's arms, drawing them tightly around him.

"Don't leave me now," he whispered. "Stay right where you are."

Elrond kissed Legolas' shoulder, holding him close. "I'm here," he whispered. "I'm going to be here, Melme, as long as I can."

The room was still for a long time after that, the candles flickering against the darkness.

Haldir stood beside his horse, a grim look on his face. He hated this duty but he obeyed his king, riding to perform this delicate task for the Lord of the Wood.

Behind him, waiting too, were his men. They would take the Prince of Mirkwood to his kingdom, meeting a party at the edge of the great forest. He would be glad when it was over. The sadness that clung over all of them here was deep.

The door opened and a tall youngster walked out, dressed in riding clothes. He walked to his horse and mounted up, as behind him Lord Erestor, Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir stood watching on the steps behind him.

Nowhere to be seen was the Lord of the House, a fact not surprising to Haldir. He turned and mounted up, nodding to the party at the door. Beside him, riding with eyes fixed straight ahead, the pale and lonely figure of the Prince of Mirkwood passed the gates. Out into the world he went and when he was gone, only then did the saddened figures on the steps turn away.

On a terrace above them, watching as long as he could, Elrond stared. He felt nothing inside, so wounded was his heart and he wondered as he watched if it was possible to die of grief. He knew it was, the tales coming to him and as he stood he felt despair coiling around his heart.

They had made their goodbyes in private, holding to each other with a desperation he didn't know was possible. They had promised their hearts to each other and then Legolas had turned, walking out the door forever. He had stared, things dying inside of him and then he had turned to the terrace, straining for a glimpse.

Legolas was gone from sight, gone from his life and he knew that the best part of living was over. What would come from the next few years he didn't know. He just knew he had duty, country, responsibility.

He stood and stared, tears drowning his heart and as he did, winter fell over Rivendell.

***EPILOGUE...

He rode into the courtyard of his father's house, noting the figures of his parents standing on the steps. His brothers had met him, their cold eyes searching for changes in the callow and self-absorbed youth that they knew.

They found changes, he knew, but not the ones they had figured on. He barely acknowledged them, riding past them as they met the party from Lorien. Haldir watched him go, the surprise on his brothers' faces and knew it would be interesting that day.

They had parted and his brothers caught up, finding no audience for their jibes in the silent figure beside them. They had arrived and dismounted, Legolas walking toward his parents.

He bowed formally, staring evenly at both. His mother's tears would have moved him before but nothing could touch him now. He hugged her, holding her until she stepped back, her face filled with happiness at his arrival. Her smile faded as she stared into his eyes, seeing nothing but desolation therein.

He looked at her and then his father, nodding to them as they stood staring back. Then without a word, he turned and walked past, disappearing into the home of his birth.

The silence in his wake was deafening.

=0=Finis

To be continued in Son Rise...


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